"Opportunities multiply as they are seized."
Sun Tzu
III
As Hermione navigated the narrow and bustling Diagon Alley, she couldn't help but shiver from the chill that permeated her body. The rain poured relentlessly from the gloomy sky, mirroring her somber mood. Gripping her umbrella tightly, she sought refuge from the cold and wet. The cozy warmth of the Leaky Cauldron or her apartment beckoned her.
However, the witch had an important task to complete at Gringotts, the imposing wizarding bank that loomed ahead. Massive iron doors guarded the entrance. Knowing that she couldn't apparate due to the bank's powerful anti-apparition wards, she resigned herself to the journey.
Stepping into the marble hall of the bank, Granger observed the busy scene. Dozens of goblins were occupied with counting coins, managing ledgers, and assisting customers. The hall reverberated with the clinking of metal, rustling of paper, and murmurs of voices. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for Kazamir, the goblin she was meant to meet. Kazamir served as the assistant to Bill Weasley, the head curse breaker. Spotting him at a desk towards the back, the young woman forged ahead, disregarding the hostile gazes from the other goblins. She could feel their eyes on her, scrutinizing her every move.
"Hello, Kazamir. I have an appointment with Bill Weasley. Is he available?" Hermione inquired politely, hoping to avoid any unnecessary trouble.
The little creature peered up from his papers, a sneer etched across his wrinkled and warty face. His beady eyes peered out from behind his spectacles, magnifying their intensity. Dressed in a black suit and gold tie, he exuded an air of disdain. "Miss Granger, what a surprise. I'm afraid Mr. Weasley is currently engaged in a vital meeting. He cannot be disturbed."
Hermione's brow furrowed. She knew Kazamir was lying. She had confirmed her appointment with Bill just the day before, and he had assured her of his availability. Moreover, she was aware of the Kazamir's resentment towards her since she had aided Weasley in breaking a particularly malicious curse on a vault belonging to the Malfoys a few months prior. The curse had caused the vault to explode, injuring the goblin in the process. Despite her innocence, he held her responsible.
"Kazamir, I know you're lying. Now, kindly let me pass, or I'll have no choice but to report you to the goblin liaison office," the witch declared firmly, attempting to convey confidence.
The goblin snorted dismissively. "Report me? Go ahead, and see if I care. Do you truly believe that the goblin liaison office holds any authority over me? You're a fool, Miss Granger. You have no inkling of whom Bill is currently meeting with. These are individuals of immense power and influence. People who would not appreciate being interrupted by a nosy little witch like yourself." He spat the word "witch" with contempt, his glare piercing her.
Anger surged within Hermione, yet she maintained her composure. She understood Kazamir's intention to provoke her and refused to grant him the satisfaction. Curiosity regarding Bill's secretive meeting and the individuals involved lingered in her mind. She decided to wait until the meeting concluded and confront the wizard directly.
"Very well, Kazamir. I'll wait. But I won't leave until I've seen Bill. Is that clear?" she calmly asserted.
The goblin shrugged nonchalantly. "Suit yourself, Miss Granger. But don't say I didn't warn you." With that, he refocused his attention on his papers, disregarding her presence.
Sighing, the witch settled onto a nearby bench. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was already past noon. Having skipped breakfast, hunger gnawed at her stomach. Rummaging through her beaded handbag, she retrieved a sandwich and a bottle of pumpkin juice. She consumed her meal, attempting to pass the time by delving into a book on ancient runes.
The tome was weighty, filled with intricate symbols and diagrams. While she found it fascinating, frustration occasionally crept in. She yearned for someone to discuss its contents with, someone who shared her passion for knowledge.
Hermione waited, waited, and waited. The minutes turned into hours, and the hours dragged on. She watched as the goblins and the customers came and went, but there was no sign of Bill. Growing more impatient, she wondered what was causing the delay.
Just as she was starting to lose hope, the doors to his office opened. A familiar figure emerged, looking slightly disheveled and tired. His red hair was messy, his face pale, and his eyes bloodshot. Yet, upon seeing her, a smile immediately brightened his face.
"I'm so sorry for the delay. The meeting ran longer than expected," he apologized, walking towards her.
Relieved to finally see him, the witch stood up. "It's alright. I've been waiting for hours. Is everything okay?"
But before she could reach him, she crossed paths with Head Auror Rodolphus Lestrange and his wife Bellatrix. Hermione tensed at the sight of them, knowing their dark reputation and their hatred for muggleborns like herself. Rodolphus sneered at her, his eyes filled with disdain.
"Well, well, if it isn't the mudblood Granger," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "What are you doing out of the Ministry? Still trying to solve the mystery of those muggle deaths, I presume?"
Granger felt her anger rise at his derogatory comment, but she refused to let him get to her. She straightened her back, looking him directly in the eye. "Lestrange, you are not my superior, and you have no authority to give me orders. I will find the culprits in my own time, without your interference."
Bellatrix, standing beside her husband, couldn't resist adding her own snarky remark. "Oh, look at the filthy mudblood, thinking she can do a job fit for real witches and wizards. Mudbloods like you should be dead, Granger. Your time is coming soon."
Hermione's hand instinctively went to her wand, ready to hex Bellatrix, but Bill stepped in between them. He placed a hand on her arm, urging her to calm down.
"Easy there," he said softly. "Let's not give them the satisfaction they crave. Come with me, into my office. We can talk there."
Reluctantly, the young woman lowered her wand and followed Weasley into his office. As they entered, she couldn't help but notice the disapproving glances from the other goblins in the bank. They may not have liked her, but she felt grateful for Bill's presence.
Once inside the office, the wizard closed the door behind them, shutting out the noise of the bank. He turned to Hermione, concern etched on his face. "I'm sorry about Rodolphus and Bellatrix. They're vile individuals, but we can't let them get to us."
The witch nodded, her anger slowly subsiding. "I understand. But I have something important to show you as well."
Weasley raised an eyebrow, curiosity evident in his eyes. "Oh? What is it?"
Hermione reached into her beaded handbag and pulled out a small, warded box. She placed it on the desk in front of him and opened it, revealing the cursed book and the cursed ring.
Bill's eyes widened as he looked at the items. "Where did you find these? And why did you bring them here?"
She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. "I found them at the Riddle manor and the Gaunt shack after two muggles were found murdered there. I believe they might be connected to the Riddle massacre ten years ago, but I don't have enough clues yet."
Weasley stared at the golden ring, his eyes drawn to the black stone that was cracked in half. The stone bore a strange symbol: a circle with a line and a triangle inside it. "Hermione, there's something wrong with this ring. It's not just a piece of jewelry. It was likely part of some dark ritual that went wrong."
The witch shuddered, remembering the gruesome scene she had witnessed. "I think it might have been used for human sacrifice. The body I found was completely lifeless, as if its soul had been drained."
Bill's expression turned serious as he picked up the leather-bound diary. He felt a strange aura emanating from it. "This book... it's powerful. I can sense dark magic within its pages. We need to be careful with it."
Hermione nodded, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear. "I knew you would be the best person to help me unravel the mysteries behind these objects, Bill. I trust your expertise as a curse breaker."
The diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle possessed an air of darkness despite its seemingly ordinary appearance. It was a small, black leather-bound book with blank pages, adorned with golden letters that spelled out its owner's name. Hermione couldn't help but be drawn to its mysterious power, feeling a cold and heavy weight in her hand as she held it.
After agreeing to examine the diary, Bill cautioned her about the potential danger it posed. As an expert in curse breaking, he had encountered numerous dark artifacts throughout his career, some of which proved to be deadly or worse.
Placing the diary on the wooden table surrounded by various instruments and books, Weasley took precautions by wearing protective dragon-hide gloves and goggles, with his wand at the ready. The witch watched nervously as he prepared himself.
"Do you truly wish to proceed with this?" he asked her. "This diary could be anything— a trap, a weapon, or even a portal to another dimension."
"I need to know, Bill," Granger replied. "This book could hold the key to understanding what caused the deaths of those muggles."
With a nod of understanding, the wizard began his analysis. He attempted to uncover any inscriptions but found the diary resistant to his efforts. Running his fingers over the cover revealed no bumps or grooves, and the revealing charm, Revelio, yielded no results. The book remained blank and silent. Even the general counter-spell, Finite Incantatem, failed to elicit any reaction from the tome. It appeared to be immune to magic.
Frowning, Bill picked up a quill and a bottle of ink. Dipping the quill into the ink, he attempted to write on the diary, expecting the ink to be absorbed by the pages. Still, the black ink simply slid off the diary, leaving no trace. It was as if the book possessed a protective layer that repelled any substances.
"This is strange," he muttered. "It's as if the diary is repelling everything."
Hermione shrugged, admitting that she had never encountered anything like this before. Despite her brilliance as a witch, dark objects were beyond her expertise.
"Perhaps it's enchanted to only respond to a specific person," she suggested. "Or maybe there's a password needed to unlock its secrets."
"I don't know, it could be an exceptionally clever forgery," Weasley proposed. "Someone may have planted it to divert our attention."
Setting the quill aside, he once again took hold of the diary, examining it closely for any clues or markings. His attention was drawn to a faint scratch on the back cover, indicating that someone had attempted to pry it open. Curiosity piqued, he wondered about the hidden secrets the diary held and who its previous owner might have been.
"Tell me again, where did you find this?" he asked Hermione.
"It was discovered in the woods near Riddle House, at the Gaunt's shack," she replied. "Beside the lifeless body of a man. He lay on a worn-out sofa, eyes wide open, with pale and dry skin. The book was clutched tightly in his hand."
"And you believe this diary belonged to one of the muggles who were murdered at Riddle Manor ten years ago?" Bill inquired.
"That was my initial thought," Hermione said. "Yet, further research revealed that it actually belonged to Tom Marvolo Riddle, the son of Merope Gaunt and the bastard heir of the Riddles. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find much more information about him."
Weasley gasped, his grip on the diary slipping as it landed on the table with a thud. Despite its innocent appearance, it held a dark and dangerous power.
"Are you serious?" he exclaimed.
Hermione nodded, her expression grave. "Yes, Bill. I believe it's more than just a diary. It seems to be some kind of dark artifact."
Bill's eyes widened in disbelief. "A cursed ring and now a cursed book? How is this possible?"
Granger nodded again. "Yes, Bill. I believe it was used in a sinister magical ritual that required a human sacrifice."
A shudder ran through the wizard as he backed away from the diary. Its presence sent a chill down his spine, emanating an eerie and malevolent aura.
"That's horrifying," he said, his voice filled with horror. "How did you uncover all of this?"
Hermione proceeded to explain how she had meticulously gathered clues from various sources, piecing together the puzzle. She shared the evidence she had collected, the reports she had studied, and the connections she had made.
Bill interrupted her, his curiosity piqued. "Do you think this is related to Grindelwald and his followers?"
The witch hesitated. "I'm not entirely certain. It could be someone else entirely. We need to understand why they chose now to enact this ritual."
The curse-breaker nodded, his gaze fixed on the diary. He pondered how they could possibly destroy something seemingly unresponsive to magic. He had exhausted all his knowledge and attempts to break its hold, but had come up empty-handed.
"Have you tried using Evanesco or any Vanishing Spells?" he asked.
Hermione sighed, disappointment evident in her voice. "Yes, I have, but it seems futile. This diary and the ring possess a different kind of magic. They act as impenetrable shields."
Frustration crept into his voice. "So, what can we do then?"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. Perhaps we need something more powerful."
She paused, her eyes filled with hope as she turned to him. "Bill, you're a curse-breaker. You've encountered countless dark and dangerous artifacts. You must know something that can help us, something that can break this curse."
Weasley sighed, his hand scratching his head in frustration. He wished he had the answers she sought, but this book surpassed anything he had encountered before.
"Hermione, I'm sorry, but I don't," he admitted, a mixture of sadness and apology in his voice. "This diary is beyond anything I've ever seen or learned."
He looked at her with genuine regret. "Perhaps you should seek the assistance of a cryptologist, someone who specializes in codes and ciphers."
The wizard hoped that his suggestion wouldn't disappoint her, but he knew her determination wouldn't waver.
"Thank you, Bill," she said gratefully. "I'll search for a cryptologist and keep you informed if I find anything."
She gathered the diary and the ring, carefully placing them back in her beaded handbag. After hugging him and expressing her gratitude once again, she left his office, making her way to the fireplace. Tossing Floo powder into the flames, she stepped into the emerald fire, stating her destination, "Potter's Cottage, Godric's Hollow," and vanished.
Bill watched her departure, wishing her the best of luck. He hoped that she would succeed in her quest. He hoped that she would find a way to destroy the diary.