The Curse-breaker's Sister

The Curse-breaker's Sister
Chapter Three

The sun woke Ginny up as it slowly crept through her window, with a stray beam of light flitting over her eyelids. She sat up slowly and stretched like a cat after a particularly refreshing nap. She was a little disoriented at first, not quite sure why she was waking up to her current level of comfort but then she remembered coming to Bill's the night before.

"Oh, Bill," Ginny whispered to herself. "Where are you?"

There was no answer other than the birds' singing outside her window. Ginny climbed out of the giant bed and slid her feet into her slippers before heading downstairs for breakfast. She was slicing strawberries to put in her porridge when an insistent tapping on the kitchen window interrupted her.

Ginny looked up at a snowy, white owl vaguely reminding her of Hedwig, trying to get her attention. She opened the window for the owl, which had flown away from the window before soaring into the kitchen. It dropped a large, fabric wrapped parcel on Bill's kitchen table and then sat on the back of a chair, catching its breath.

Ginny could see the feathers on the bird's chest flutter up and down as the owl breathed. Judging by the state of the bird, and the loud THUNK she'd heard when the parcel was deposited on the table, it was something big and heavy. She offered the owl some strawberry slices and then sat down to examine the parcel.

It was addressed to Bill. Ginny turned the parcel over to see who had sent it and noticed that it was from Bill as well.

"That's odd," she mused. "Why would Bill be sending himself mail?"

The owl hopped over to Ginny and extended its leg. There was a roll of parchment tied to it. Without thinking, Ginny untied the parchment and unfolded it. It was a message from the Owlery in Diagon Alley informing Bill that his parcel had been undeliverable for three months. After the end of the month, they would no longer try to deliver it to him, but keep it available at the Owlery for him to pick it up.

Ginny thanked the owl, and taking another strawberry slice in its beak, it flew off out the window. Ginny went back to the parcel and contemplated opening it. It wasn't her mail to open. She'd already violated Bill's privacy by opening the scroll. But something here didn't add up. Bill had addressed the parcel to himself and that was not normal behaviour. That, coupled with his three-month absence prompted Ginny to open it.

Using her wand, she checked for any Curses or Charms that may have been placed on the package and surprisingly, she found one. It was harmless - provided that you were a Weasley. Bill had charmed the parcel with a variation of the Weasley Wrap Charm, a Fred and George invention. The Weasley Wrap Charm originally prevented snooping siblings from reading the twins' mail. Realizing its usefulness, they'd adapted it to apply to non-Weasley family members. If you weren't a Weasley, tiny bolts of lightning would zap your hands when you tried to open the letter. The more you tried, the more painful the zaps became.

Luckily, Ginny was a Weasley and in no danger of being struck by tiny bolts of lightning when she opened the parcel. She unwrapped the dull, khaki fabric, rubbing the material between her thumb and forefinger. It felt like robe material, and when she held the piece of fabric up in front of her, her suspicions were confirmed. It was the bottom half of a set of robes, hemmed neatly on the bottom, but frayed at the top where it had been ripped away from the rest of the outfit. Hidden between the fabric was a shiny, golden tablet.

Ginny recognized the tablet as amber immediately. She ran her hands over the polished surface; it felt smooth to the touch. She traced some of the intricate carvings with her fingers, wondering what the geometric symbols stood for. Turning it over, Ginny discovered more carvings depicting a mermaid and what looked like some sort of a half-goat half-fish creature. She placed the tablet on the table and searched the wrapping for some sort of note from Bill.

There was nothing.

"Strange," Ginny mused. "No note, only a Weasley can open it and sent to himself. Something does not add up here."

Ginny studied the tablet once more, this time looking closely at the triangular symbols that decorated the one side. They were completely foreign to her. She thought perhaps it was some sort of a written language, but not one she'd seen before. Maybe Bill had a book on this somewhere.

Several hours later, Ginny was still sifting through the books in Bill's extensive home library. She'd found nothing of interest, only outdated copies of History of Archaeology, and a few old love letters tucked between two old books. Exasperated, frustrated and generally not happy, Ginny took a break and went back to the breakfast she'd forgotten to eat. Her porridge was cold and lumpy and a few flies had discovered the leftover strawberry slices. She magicked the mess away and used her wand to boil the kettle for tea.

While Ginny was sitting back, enjoying a cup of tea, not everybody else was as lucky. Draco Malfoy would have gladly chopped off his right arm for a cup of tea at this moment, for a drop of tea, even. His lips were chapped, his mouth parched and his tongue was swollen and dry.

He tried to sit up but quickly fell back down onto the sand as a rush of blood to his head made him dizzy. Draco carefully lifted a hand to his head, wincing when he discovered a lump the size of his fist protruding from his forehead. He struggled to remember how he had come by the injury. His memory was blank at first, but then the previous night's events slowly came back to him...

Draco had met with Bill Weasley at Ninurtas Plough, a public house in outer Ur. They had met there before on business; Draco on behalf of his company, Malfoy International and Bill as a Gringotts representative. Gringotts had realized that they could make a lot more money if Bill was on the job all the time. It was a waste of time and Galleons to have him shuttling found treasure back to Gringotts or delivering it to the client. That's where Draco came in.

Draco, or a Malfoy International representative, would meet Bill out in the field, take over the care for whatever treasure he had found and deliver it to Gringotts allowing Bill to immediately move on to his next job. This system had worked for both of them until last night.

Draco could remember signing off on Bill's latest discovery, a golden staff, four feet long and tipped with a smooth, circular lump of amber. The staff itself was plain. Braided threads of silver crisscrossed the bottom half of it creating a grid of silver and gold. Bill had polished the staff and the stone on the top of it burned in the torchlight...

"The staff!"

Draco sat up suddenly and rocketed onto his knees. It was dark out, wherever he was; the only light was from the few stars in sky. He started crawling around on his hands and knees searching for the staff.

He searched for what felt like hours, his head was aching and every once and a while the wound would send a fresh stream of blood into his eyes. In the end, Draco's search was futile. The staff was gone.

Draco sat down, leaning against a giant rock. Details of the night before washed over him. He'd met with Bill, taken the staff and started on his way to Ea Nasir's mansion, following Bill's directions. Some sort of magic surrounding the staff had prevented him from Apparating or from using a portkey. Draco had been on his broom.

He remembered flying by the light of the moon when suddenly something flew between him and the night sky, blocking all light from above. Then he'd been ambushed...and the next thing he remembered was waking up out in the Mesopotamian desert, battered, bruised, and dispossessed of both the staff and his broom.

The sun was appearing on the horizon turning the distant mountains deep purple in colour. He'd been searching for the staff all night.

"Bloody hell," he cursed to himself. "This is hopeless."

Even though cross-country Apparition was illegal, and he was in no shape to Apparate even ten feet away, Draco Apparated home with a quiet pop. He Disapparated to his bedroom, a few feet from his bed. Collapsing onto the mattress, shoes on, blonde hair matted and bloody, he promptly fell asleep.