A/N: Okay, I WAS planning on uploading this last Saturday, but something happened to my computer the week before, and I had to finish off the chapter this week. The plan for this story is to have a new chapter every Saturday, but seeing as I was thrown off, I'll try to have Chapter 2 AND 3 up by next week; maybe even get Ch. 2 up before next Saturday. We'll see.

CHAPTER ONE

THE MAGICAL ARTIFACT RECOVERY DIVISION

Five days earlier – December 18th, 12:00 a.m.

George Benfield's heartbeat quickened in pace with every level the lift passed on its way down. Sweat perspired underneath his gray mop of hair and glided down his face as Benfield observed the progress of the dial. Finally, the dial stopped in the small bit of space under the "1", indicating that Benfield had just arrived at a level of the Ministry of Magic that wasn't readily known by the majority of its employees. With a high-pitched ding, the iron grille moved aside to offer a clear path to what lay beyond. Benfield raised a slightly shaking hand to where a brass key was inserted into a hole and removed it. He replaced it on a key ring.

Benfield then took a deep breath and stepped out of the lift.

George Benfield was a Recoverable working for The Magical Artifact Recovery Division inside the Ministry of Magic. The job of a Recoverable was to go out around the world and hunt down various magical artifacts that posed a potential threat to both the wizard and Muggle communities. They were authorized to then use whatever means necessary to recover the artifacts from whatever force currently possessed them. Bottom line, they were the "Indiana Jones" figures of the Ministry, and George Benfield had been one of the best Recoverables there was.

The area in front of and around Benfield had no windows, seeing as how it was underground, and yet, the brick walls glimmered in a midnight blue that nearly signified the time of day it was. Benfield walked at a normal pace through the arched passageway, trying his best to look as calm as was possible. With great concentration, he steadied his breathing as he approached the single desk at the end of the passageway that guarded a wall-length, curved door.

A male guard with bushy hair and a week's worth of whiskers on his face and wearing Navy blue robes sat behind the desk with his feet propped up on the edge while he scanned through the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. On the front of the desk hung a medium-sized Christmas wreath adorned with red ribbons and bells. It was the only indication inside this unremarkable space of what time of year it was.

When Benfield reached the desk, the guard looked up from his newspaper and gave Benfield a mildly confused look. He glanced down at his watch.

"Mr. Benfield. It's quite late for anyone to come down here-"

"Relax, Marty," said Benfield in the most confident voice he could muster. "Anderson has requested that I perform a last-minute inventory before I go on holiday."

Of course, knew Benfield, Anderson, the head of the Magical Artifact Recovery Division, had requested no such thing.

Marty, the guard, straightened up and cleared his throat while he picked up a clipboard. He consulted the papers on it, raising up the first sheet and read the text on the second.

"There's no record of any inventory scheduled for-"

"Like I said," Benfield continued hurriedly, "it's last minute." Benfield stuffed his hand inside his pocket and produced a ring with a set of jangling keys. "Come on, the sooner you let me pass, the sooner I can get this over with."

Marty contemplatively stared from Benfield's face to the key ring. Finally, he sighed and slid back a hidden door on top of his desk that revealed a small button. "In an effort to keep the Christmas spirit in the air, I won't ask any further questions."

Marty pressed down on the button, which caused a piece of the wall beside the massive door to slide to the right and unveil a secret keyhole.

"Merry Christmas," said Marty. "And tell Monica hello."

"I will," Benfield forced out as he found the proper key and stepped forward. He inserted the key into the lock and turned. There was a dull clicking sound from behind the giant door before the door open of its own accord.

Just then, Benfield heard a grunt accompanied by a swipe and whirled around to see a knife protruding from Marty's chest.

Marty regarded the knife with confusion before he took three deep breaths and hauled himself out of his chair, wand at the ready, only to be thrown backward into the wall by a flash of green light. Marty was dead before his body hit the floor.

Benfield drew his own wand, but was met with the sight of a beautiful witch with curly black hair and a long-sleeve dress that perfectly accentuated her curves leveling her own wand right at him. Benfield reluctantly let his arm fall to his side.

"Why did you kill him?" Benfield asked sharply.

"Because he was a witness." The witch spoke in a smooth, seductive French accent that was disturbingly calm. "And because I felt you needed a reminder not to try anything stupid."

"Mrs.-"

"I prefer to be called by my first name," the witch cut in coldly, "given my situation."

"Very well," Benfield grunted through gritted teeth. "Selena…I agreed to give you what you want. I have no reason to go against you, because by doing so, I'd be killing my own wife."

"I always like to be extra careful," Selena responded simply. "Now go."

Selena disappeared back under her Invisibility Charm, which made Benfield begrudgingly turn around, extract the key from the lock, and step through the open door.

What lay on the other side of the door was another antechamber. Like the first, this one was illuminated in that same blue light, but there was more than one guard posted. It was the entrance to the vault of the Magical Artifact Recovery Division. Here was where every magical artifact recovered by agents of the division was kept in storage, partly for observation and study of their capabilities and partly to keep the more dangerous ones away from civilization. Only a select few were permitted access to the vault, and George Benfield was one of them.

Four muscular, black-suited men with buzz cuts and stoic faces stood in front of yet another large door, two on either side. When the four guards caught sight of Benfield, they all snapped their hands up to the wands secured to their hips, but Benfield waved his hand to signal their caution wasn't necessary.

"It's me, gentlemen," he said. He shot a nervous glance over his shoulder once he was in close proximity to the guards.

"Never hurts to be cautious," the first guard on the door's right side replied. "Entering the vault tonight, are we?" After the guard saw Benfield begin to search through the keyring, he added, "You know the drill."

Benfield nodded, disconnected two gold keys from the ring and handed both to the guard. He stuffed the keyring back into the pocket of his robes with his right hand while extracting a small knife from his other pocket with his left. With complete calm, Benfield lifted the tip of the knife to his right thumb and applied just enough pressure to break the skin and let loose a small stream of blood.

The guard instantly held out both keys, and Benfield rubbed his bleeding thumb over the keys, covering every inch of them that wasn't the handle in it. One of the guards from the left side came over and took one of the keys by its handle. Then, he went back to his position as the other guard did the same.

Both guards faced keyholes that had been carved into the wall and each held their respective key suspended in front of the hole. During this pause, Benfield closed the small wound on his thumb using his wand.

The guards inserted the bloody keys into the holes and turned them simultaneously. Just like with the first door, there came the dull, muffled sound of locks being undone from the other side, but the vault door took longer than the other one to open, seeing as it provided entry to a more sensitive area. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the large iron door swung forward.

The sight beyond the threshold was one of a vast chamber dimly lit by flickering flames in iron holders suspended from the ceiling. The vault was divided into separate corridors between evenly spaced shelves that appeared to stretch all the way up to the ceiling as well. Leaning against the end of each shelf were ladders big enough to allow any person who climbed them to reach whatever level of the shelves they desired. The ladders were constructed out of weathered wood that made them look rickety, but Benfield knew that they were as stable as could be.

"So why are you down here so late?" asked the first guard from the right.

"Anderson requested I bring up a few artifacts for some secondary observations," Benfield lied. "I won't be long."

Benfield replaced the knife back in his pocket and took a few steps toward the open vault, when a sudden outcry halted him in his tracks.

"NO! DON'T LET HIM IN!"

Benfield whipped his head around to see one of his fellow Recoverables, Harris, racing toward them, wand held in front of him.

"HE'S UNDER DURESS!"

Benfield cursed under his breath. Harris must've overheard his conversation with Selena up in the office hours ago and waited everything out, just like Selena, so he could follow them and stop Benfield before he could give Selena what she wanted. Unfortunately, seeing as Selena had two of her men with Benfield's wife at the moment, Benfield couldn't afford any setbacks.

He desperately charged forward, but was blocked by two of the guards shoving their shoulders into his chest. With his right hand, Benfield struggled to get to his wand again, but all of his focus shifted when a flash of red light briefly illuminated both of the guards' faces.

Benfield and the two guards abandoned their struggle to see what was going on with Harris.

Harris was falling facedown to the ground, but he managed to utter an incantation along the way, and a jet of gold light burst out of his wand, but was deflected by something and it went colliding into the blue brick wall. A handful of bricks were knocked free as a result.

Just then, Selena reappeared out of thin air, but this time, she was accompanied by four black-clad men wearing silver snake masks. The masks were an indicator that they were all members of The Brotherhood of the Black Serpent.

Selena, her face still expressionless, uttered, "Avada Kedavra," and seconds later, Harris was sent twirling through midair until his lifeless body impacted against the ground with a loud echo.

After that, the guards leapt into action. They all fired Stunning Spells at Selena and her group, but all it took was Selena casually raising her wand while never turning to block the spells with a shimmering blue shield, which evaporated after the danger had passed. Only then did Selena turn around to face the guards.

She surveyed them with amused eyes that also gave off a seductive quality. "Benfield," she said in a tone like that of a mother wishing her child good night, "get down."

Benfield acquiesced, but only just in time. In a nearly invisible flash of movement, Selena raised her wand and sliced it in a straight line through the air, right to left. All four guards slumped to the floor once she was done, and Benfield glanced over to see that the throats of the two on his left had been cut open and were bleeding freely. The same was true for the two on his right.

Slowly, Benfield rose to his feet and regarded Selena with a shocked look. As he did, Selena's men roughly brushed past him and entered the vault.

"Don't act so surprised," Selena purred as she grabbed Benfield by the arm and guided him into the vault. "You know perfectly well what I'm capable of and I offer no excuses for it. I have a goal, and you're going to help me achieve it." They had joined her men in the central shelf corridor of the vault. "Now, you're certain the artifacts are where you say they are?"

"Yes," whispered Benfield, the sight of the slashed throats still at the forefront of his mind.

"No form of trickery?"

"If artifacts ever have to be moved, I'm one of the first people to know about it. The ones you want, they are where I say they are."

Selena nodded. "Very well." She inclined her head toward her men. "Only what we came for, gentlemen, and nothing else."

The Brotherhood members dispersed and disappeared behind various shelves, on the hunt for the artifacts their boss desired. Benfield and Selena were now alone.

"I've upheld my end of the bargain," Benfield spat. "Now it's your turn."

Selena smiled a gorgeous smile that Benfield would have found attractive if he was unaware of her true nature. "Of course." She stepped closer to him so that her hips were grinding against his. "But first, allow me to give you a token of my appreciation."

Benfield's eyes took on a look of confusion as Selena wrapped her hand against the back of his head and pulled it closer to hers. With a deliberate style comparable to that of a passionate lover, Selena pressed her lips against Benfield's and opened them so their tongues could mingle with each other. Selena let the kiss go on for a good minute before she broke it off. Benfield was left to stare at her with a mixture of awe and disgust.

"Like my lipstick?" Selena asked silkily. "It's a special concoction of mine. The primary ingredient…is snake venom."

The instant those last words left Selena's mouth, Benfield could feel a painful sensation abruptly take hold of his insides. He sank to his knees, but Selena tilted his chin up so he could still look into her eyes.

"But before you die on me, let me clear something up. I never broke my promise. Your wife will remain unharmed once my men and I leave this vault. You, on the other hand…well, I can't have anybody blabbing my identity just yet. So sorry to do this to you so close to the holidays."

Selena noticed that her men had now returned, each carrying artifacts of varying size and shape in their arms, so she walked over to them, thereby letting Benfield fall to the ground as the snake venom finished its job.

Selena glanced over the artifacts her men had gathered until she caught sight of the one she required at the moment: a jewel-encrusted leather belt with a gold buckle. Selena picked up the belt. "Secure the rest," she ordered as she slipped the belt around her waist and tightened the buckle. A dull purple light glimmered around the belt once it was on her.

The Brotherhood members conjured up black bags and stuffed the artifacts into them, tying strings on top to make sure they were closed all the way.

Once that was done, Selena twisted the outer circle on the golden buckle. "Grab onto me, gentlemen. And any wandering hands will soon turn into severed ones."

The Brotherhood members all stepped closer to her and each placed a hand on either Selena's arms or shoulders.

Selena closed her eyes in concentration and a few seconds later, she and her henchmen vanished into thin air without a single sound.

The only thing that was left behind was a trail of carnage that stretched from the lift, all the way into the vault.