Author: Lash_Larue
Title: "Revelations"
Pairing:Ginny/Hermione– others, I've lost track.
Rating: Adult
Summary: Skullduggery
Warnings: Complicated relationships, sexual references, shit happens…
Word Count: 2200
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling
The Hunters Part 34
"Revelations"
The service for Bill had been held in the garden at the Burrow, as there had been no need for a burial. There was considerably less left of Bill than there had allegedly been of Peter Pettigrew.
A message had arrived from Gringotts one morning, a standard sort of "We regret to inform you" letter, and just like that Fleur was a widow and her children had no father.
"Papa not come home?" Victoire asked yet again.
"No sweetheart," Hermione explained patiently, "something bad happened where Papa was working, and he was killed."
"Oh. When Papa come home?"
Hermione hugged Victoire and tried again to explain, but you just couldn't tell a little girl that life sucked, and that people were bastards, and that a millennia-old hatred had caught her father up in it and erased him from her life.
Fleur was numb, she clung to Tris and Victoire desperately, and daily thanked the fates for Ginny, Hermione, and Pansy.
The bird that Bill had sent had arrived during the hellish period after the message informing Fleur of his death, and Pansy had set it on the mantelpiece not recognizing the writing, and had soon forgotten it.
It had been nearly a month now. Fleur had insisted that Ginny go to practices, and Hermione very seldom went in to her office anymore. In fact, she would have stopped work altogether and concentrated on Fleur and the children except for financial realities.
Shell Cottage was a premium property, and the mortgage was large. Bill's company insurance had not been extensive, and Fleur carefully budgeted it so as to make it last. Pansy had wanted to pay it off, but most of her ready cash was tied up in the new club venture with Harry.
"You have given so much already, Pansy. Perhaps if our hearts truly belonged to each other, and no one else… but we both know how complex our feelings are. I will not hesitate to ask for your help if the girls need something though. I know you love them, and of course Tris is your child too. I can always go and live with the flock, or with my parents. And Bill's bonus should be coming in soon,"
Smithers was reviewing the treasure that had been recovered, and the value of it lit a fire inside him. And the fact that everyone else who knew the real extent of the find was dead began to suggest something more to him.
"Weasley's wife is young and beautiful, she'll have no trouble finding another husband… perhaps an older man, one who can offer security to her and her children. Yes, it's the least I can do for Weasley…"
xxxx
"I'm afraid you'll need to stay overnight, Arthur," Pye told him after his examination. "The amount of tissue to be vanished is rather large, and it will be a shock to your system."
"I see. I thought something was amiss. I haven't felt right since we got the news about Bill, truth to tell. Dunno how Fleur's going to manage; though I suppose Ginny and Hermione will pitch in, and perhaps Fleur's parents can help. I expect she'll have to sell her house though. Bill went right out on a limb to get that lovely place," Arthur told Pye.
"The worry isn't helping," Pye conceded, "I don't suppose it would do any good to tell you not to worry, so I won't bother. And I'm terribly sorry about Bill, Arthur. No parent should ever have to bury a child, let alone two."
"Nothing to bury this time, Bill was always a considerate boy."
xxxx
Hermione answered the tingle of the wards, Harry had re-keyed them after Bill's death, and Ginny and Hermione had the same control of them as Fleur did, now. Pansy had declined control, but had accepted unlimited access.
"Mr. Smithers, I presume?" Hermione greeted the visitor.
"Yes, Redfield Smithers, at your service, Miss…"
"Granger, Hermione Granger. I'm a friend of the family, helping Mrs. Weasley with the children."
"Oh, how very good of you. I'm expected, I take it?" Smithers asked. The name of the woman before him was vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it. Smithers only really read the business section of the Prophet.
"Yes, follow me please," Hermione said courteously.
"Beautiful place," Smithers thought. "If I play my cards right I'll wind up with that lovely bit of crumpet, and this showplace to boot…"
"And so you see, Mrs. Weasley, your husband had amended his contract to exchange his bonus for a larger percentage of the find," Smithers explained.
"I see that," Fleur agreed, having readily recognized Bill's writing on the proposed change and the accepted contract revision. Bill had also hinted at a change in one of his letters, as much as he could, given the security at the site.
"Unfortunately, in the confusion following the massive explosion that resulted in Bill's tragic death, the Muggles responsible made off with the bulk of the treasure. What was not destroyed outright, that is."
This was a barefaced lie, but there was no one left to dispute it. The treasure was in fact all quite safe in a security vault. Smithers had not yet finished his initial appraisal of it, but it was vast. He would not of course try and conceal the value from Gringots, but he had no qualms about adding Bill's share to his own. Five percent was so much more than three. And he was quite prepared to assume care of Bill's wife and children. Quite prepared indeed…
Hermione did not miss the look that Smithers gave Fleur, and while everything she saw appeared to be perfectly legal, she nonetheless smelled a rat.
"Here is a detailed list of the recovered treasure, along with its appraised value, Mrs. Weasley. I have taken the liberty of bringing a check for Bill's two percent share. Of course, this is only the initial appraisal, but I thought you might have need of the funds. If it goes for more you will receive additional money, of course, and should our estimate prove high, Gringots will not expect a return of any sort, out of respect for your late husband." Smithers handed Fleur an envelope.
"Thank you, Mr. Smithers," Fleur said automatically.
"I realize this is scarcely the time, Mrs. Weasley," Smithers oiled, "but as an unemployed widow with two small children and a very large mortgage, you may need to be rather more practical than is ordinary. I myself am quite well-off, and I thought a great deal of Bill, and, well… I believe I could see my way clear to assuming responsibility for you all. We could live right here, you know."
Hermione's vision went white for a moment, and before Fleur could recover from the shock of Smithers' suggestion, Hermione had her wand pressed against his throat.
"You need to leave now, you lecherous old bastard," Hermione hissed, "or you'll soon have the same last memory that many at Hogwarts had."
Now he remembered the name, and he bowed to Fleur and hastily fled to the access point where Hermione rudely shoved him through. No matter, the pinch of hunger would seal the deal, he was sure. And if not, he had all that lovely money to look forward to.
"Fleur, are you alright?" Hermione asked upon re-entering the sitting room.
"What? Oh, yes," she said as she looked up from the parchment she had been reading. "Two thousand galleons. That's Bill's two percent. Bill lost his life for two thousand galleons…"
"Fleur my love, I- "
"No, no money could make up for the loss, it's just that Bill really thought that this would secure our future, and it will not even last six months."
"It will work out, Ginny and I make decent money. True, Shell Cottage is a bit dear for us, but we'll work it out."
"Mama Hermonkey!"
"Go and see to our daughter, Hermione, my love. I just don't feel up to the stairs right now. Please bring Tris back with you, she will be hungry soon, and it is my turn. I am okay, love, it has just been a bit of a shock, do you see?"
xxxx
"He said what?" Ginny questioned flatly as she and Hermione talked on the couch that evening. Fleur had retired early, soon after putting Victoire down for the night.
"You heard me," Hermione confirmed.
"That motherfucker…"
"Over my dead body," Hermione spat.
"Well put, 'Mione. It just doesn't make sense to me; I can't see Bill gambling his family's future like that. He knew the risks of that project; he talked to me about them before he left. He told me they had the security figured out. And I know shit happens, but I just … dammit!" Ginny rose and paced the room.
"Dad's sick again too," Ginny told Hermione as she held onto the mantle and stared into the fire. "Merlin's ass, this sucks."
The fire flared green, and as Ginny moved aside she knocked an envelope off the mantelpiece.
"What's up, your owl seemed a bit upset," Pansy asked as she dusted off her slacks.
"Bill's share of the find is two thousand galleons, and his old boss is putting the moves on Fleur," Hermione answered bluntly.
"What a cocksucker," Pansy muttered. "Look, I'll sell my share of the new club, or I'll sell my fucking house, but we are going to keep this place for Fleur and the children, do you hear? God's balls, what a time for a bloody cash flow problem."
"What's this?" Ginny asked as she picked up the envelope.
"Huh? Oh, that. It came during all the uproar right after we heard about Bill; I put it there and forgot it. Is it important?" Pansy asked.
"It's from Bill," Ginny answered.
"Oh."
"Oh dear," Hermione added.
"Fuck it, I'm opening it," Ginny declared, "if it will hurt Fleur I'll save it for later or never. Are you two with me?"
"He was your brother, Ginny," Pansy answered, "and we all love Fleur. Open it."
"Right," Hermione agreed.
Ginny tried to open the envelope.
"It's spelled shut," she told them.
"I'll have a go," Hermione offered, "we need Fleur's wand," she said after a moment.
"I'll get it," Pansy said, and neither Ginny nor Hermione objected. Pansy could move as silently as Midnight, when she wished.
"Even Fleur isn't as graceful as Pansy," Hermione admitted.
"Pans is something," Ginny agreed. "And I know it's old news now, but can you believe that you and I are sitting here admiring Pansy Parkinson?"
"Oh, it's more than admiration," Hermione amended.
"Here you go," Pansy said as she handed Fleur's wand to Hermione. In a moment the envelope was open.
"Here, he was your brother," Hermione echoed Pansy's earlier words.
Ginny took the letter and read…
"Dearest Fleur, we are just about to leave for home; all is complete here but for lowering the wards and portkeying out. I am looking forward eagerly to meeting Tris, and to seeing you and Victoire again. Enclosed is a complete inventory of all of the treasure that we recovered here, as well as my estimates as to value. I am no real expert, but I do have some experience, as you know, and I have tried to be conservative. Frankly, I expect the value to be higher. All of this has been transported to Gringots and received by Mr. Smithers, and he and I will go through it again upon my return. I am not, strictly speaking, supposed to have this list, must less send it to you. Life, however, has taught me not to assume too much, nor to trust too well, save where that trust is proven.
Give my love to Victoire, and Tris, and to those three marvelous women who have stood by you in my absence. Frankly, I'm right chuffed that it took three!
Love ever,
Bill"
"There are several pages here…" Ginny muttered as she thumbed through them. "Fuck! How much did Fleur get from that asshole?"
"Two thousand, here's the listing that he gave her," Hermione answered, "total value is one hundred thousand."
"That fucking piece of shit…" Ginny said venomously.
"Gin?"
"Two-hundred-million."
"Bill's estimate is two hundred million, and there are hundreds of items here not on that bastard's list. That cocksucker is trying to steal Bill's children's future. Bill says plainly that all this stuff is already safe at Gringots!"
"What can we do about it?" Hermione asked. "He wouldn't have tried this if he wasn't sure he could get away with it, and this list doesn't prove anything at all. Anyone who would know different is dead."
"Smithers, you motherfucker, I am going to pull your balls out through your mouth," Ginny swore.
"Smithers?" Pansy asked, suddenly keen, "Redfield Smithers, by any chance?"
"That's him," Hermione confirmed. Pansy gave a smile that wilted the flowers on the table.
"Make me a copy of that list, would you Hermione? And then I really need to fuck one or both of you, I'm a bit keyed up. But you can quit worrying about this shit."