Adrian Pucey: Gringotts Curse-Breaker

9 Aug 1996

Work's going well, and I've managed to stay away from Fleur and Bill. One of the other apprentices (he's 27; I hope I'm not still an apprentice at that age) told me everyone had heard about my accident, so now I have loads of other people who think I'm a twit too. I've had a lecture about safety every single day from Harun - and one about Millicent! As though I'd do anything to hurt her.

To be honest, I wish I weren't going to Mexico. I want the work, but I'm so worried about things here. Mum and Dad should be safe, as long as they don't mouth off about anything to the wrong person, but I'm scared for Millicent. Draco knows her views. I don't know why he's talking to her or what he's up to, but I'm scared that if anything goes wrong, Draco will throw Millicent to the wolves. Scrimgeour's wolves or You-Know-Who's, it won't matter which. Whoever's after him, he'll give them Millicent before he gives in himself. She won't listen, though.

Pansy and Millicent sat eating scones with cream and jam in Millicent's spotlessly clean living room. She employed a cleaner because her father couldn't manage the house on his own, but if she'd been at home full-time, Millicent would have kept it every bit as neat by herself. A vase of lilies moaned mournfully from a little table in front of the window. Millicent's mother had always had bizarre magical flowers around the place and Millicent had continued the tradition. Initially she'd done it out of sentiment, but nowadays it also seemed like a sensible precaution, akin to declaring oneself completely magical.

"This really is excellent," Pansy said. "I wish your elf would teach Draco's how to make them properly. Apparently his old elf was a great cook, but it got lost somehow."

"I don't have an elf," Millicent reminded Pansy. "I... I get them made for me." Millicent had nipped down the road to the Muggle baker's shop when she'd remembered that Pansy was coming for tea. She was feeling slightly guilty at feeding Pansy something that would offend her.

"I didn't think you'd made them yourself. I've seen you in Potions. You can't mix a Sleeping Draught, so I don't expect you can bake." Millicent didn't feel so bad after that, and offered Pansy another scone. Pansy looked thoughtful, as though calculating how much weight one little cake could add to her slender frame, and then took one.

"How's life at Draco's now?" Millicent asked.

"It's improved since you came round. Draco's mum went out one night too, and came back much more cheerful. She does that occasionally. I don't know who she's seeing, but it certainly puts a spring in her step."

"Maybe she goes to visit Lucius."

Pansy shuddered. "Azkaban's improved since the Dementors have left, Narcissa reckons, but seeing someone you love in that place wouldn't raise anyone's spirits."

Millicent shrugged. Where Narcissa Malfoy went was her own business. She didn't think Draco's mother was likely to be doing anything illegal. "How's Draco himself?"

"Oh..." Pansy looked away from Millicent and towards the window. "He's all right," she said in her don't-care voice. Then she blurted, "No, he's not all right. When it's just the two of us, and we're out somewhere like flying our brooms at night, he's fantastic. He's sweeter than ever. Most of the time, though, we're stuck in that house, and he broods the whole time. He looks at me as though I'm going to drop dead at any moment. He's the same with his mother. When he's not acting like he's responsible for us both, he seems excitable somehow."

"He misses Lucius," Millicent said sensibly.

"It's not that... I swear I'm going to find out what he's up to."

"Perhaps he doesn't want you to know."

"If he'd wanted a girlfriend who'd do what she was told, he'd have started dating Daphne," Pansy snapped. "Do you know, he went shopping with his mother on Saturday while I was visiting my aunt and he came back with robes from Twilfit and Tatting's. The Malfoys never shop at Twilfits. No one with any style does. It turned out he'd had a run in with Potter and that frizzy cow Granger."

"In Twilfit's?" Millicent was confused. She didn't think Twilfits would serve a Muggleborn customer. Millicent had been getting her robes there since she was a child, although since Eloise Midgen had been giving her some help with her outfits she'd bought a few items from Gladrags.

"No, you fool. In Madam Malkin's. But I was so glad to see how angry they both were with Potter; I could have shaken his hand. Draco was my Draco, for a while anyway. Ah, enough of Draco. How's Adrian?"

Millicent beamed. "He's all better after that stupid accident he had at work. Mr Sayeed, his boss, said Adrian had identified all the statues correctly before the accident."

Pansy, sharper and more suspicious than her friend, asked, "Well, why did he grab the cursed one, then?"

"I don't know... It must have been some sort of accident. Hey, Mr Sayeed says Adrian has my photo on his desk at work."

"A photo of you? When have you ever stood in front of a camera?"

"Adrian took it the week before the week before the incident at the Ministry."

"Oh." Slytherins considered it poor form to talk much against Harry Potter's most recent fight against Voldemort, given that it had led to the imprisonment of the fathers of several of their housemates. Neither Pansy nor Millicent even mentioned Harry Potter in front of Draco without Draco naming him first; Pansy saw him glance at the Daily Prophet every morning and go white with anger. "You know, Millie, I'm not sure Adrian's the right boy for you."

Millicent set down her fourth scone. "Don't go there, Pansy."

Pansy was not paying attention. "At school he was nice, but sort of boring. I think he's had enough of being boring, and he's going to go a bit wild. I mean, curse breakers do tend to be lively types. It's a bit of a macho thing to do, grabbing a statue you know is cursed. I'd ask myself 'who was he trying to impress?'"

"Pansy!" Millicent said, in a more warning voice.

"Fine, have it your way. Just don't do anything you shouldn't."

Millicent hastily slurped her tea. Adrian had suggested doing more than kissing and cuddling, and Millicent had said no. She was starting to think the time might be right to say yes, though.

**

Shamefaced, Adrian returned to work on the Thursday. Harun met him at the door to their little office. "Before you go in," Harun began.

Adrian sighed. "I'm not going to do anything that stupid again," he said. "I don't know why I did it in the first place."

"Oh, you can get cursed all you like. I just wanted to warn you that some of the others have arranged a surprise for you," Harun said. "They were just having a joke." He led the way inside.

On Adrian's desk sat a nicely made reproduction of the cursed statuette, with a tiny Adrian clasped in its hands. Even the colour and texture of the stone looked like the real thing. As he stared at it, its eyes rolled and it fell over on top of his rune textbooks. "It falls over every five minutes, and gets up five minutes after that," Harun told him. "It's annoying, but the charm will wear off eventually."

Adrian pulled a face. "I suppose they think I'm a complete moron, don't they?" He could imagine everyone at Gringotts laughing themselves silly as they gossiped about him getting cursed.

"No," said Harun in surprise. "Everyone has accidents. At least you're back in one piece - one old chap here has been bald since the age of 19 thanks to a curse. We'd better stick to language exercises for the rest of this week, though." They picked up the textbooks and Adrian began to study.

Harun usually disappeared for a short while several times a day. He got up earlier than usual this time, however, and didn't pick up his rolled-up mat.

"Off for prayers?" Adrian asked.

"I've got to see my boss. I'm in trouble - unorthodox teaching methods and all that guff. You'd think with Death Eaters roaming around the country they'd be glad I was teaching you something practical, but nooo..." Harun pulled a face. "Honestly! You didn't even lose any body parts. He'll see it my way when I explain why you're getting intensive training, I'm sure. I heard along the grapevine that Hiroshi's got an apprentice now. There's no way London's going to lose that treasure to Tokyo. The boss will understand." Harun bounded out of the room.

Left alone with his textbooks, Adrian found himself looking at Millicent's photo. "Millicent," he said to it, "what have I got myself into?"

The little black-and-white Millicent simply smiled shyly at him out of the photo frame, then the joke statuette fell over and knocked it onto the floor, smashing the glass.

16 Aug 1996

Only about a fortnight to go now. I've been cramming Aztec for all I'm worth. Harun's been brushing up on his Spanish. It's funny, but I'd have expected him to make me learn Spanish, but he says I need the ancient languages and runes more. I've lost track of the languages Harun can speak. They're almost all South American. He really is single-minded; he should have been a Slytherin I'm sure. Millicent's been a great help. She's been reading up on Middle American magical creatures. She's mad about animals anyway, but she has a way of explaining them that makes them seem really fascinating.

I've also had a strange request from Bill. It won't hurt to go along with it.

Adrian threw down his book of Aztec symbols in disgust. "I'm never going to lean this," he groaned. "That loony Master..."

"Harun?" asked Millicent, looking up from a cookbook. She'd been watching photographed hands demonstrating how to cream together butter and sugar when making a cake, and was interested in seeing how the mixture in the picture fell from the spoon so she'd have an idea of the correct consistency. The two of them were sitting in her living room. They'd considered going outside, but the mist and gloom from the Dementor activity had made them decide against it.

"How many other crazy masters do I have?" Adrian griped. "He's been told that if he gets me injured again, I'll be passed on to another master curse-breaker, but I think he's only laying off the tough stuff until he gets me to Mexico. I don't think he even knows what he'll do after we've cracked that tomb."

"You'll do brilliantly," Millicent assured him. "You did so well in your NEWTs."

"NEWTs aren't real life. What's with the cookbook?"

Millicent frowned. "Pansy said she knew I wouldn't be able to bake scones because I'm rubbish at Potions, so I'm learning to cook."

"And?"

"It's easy to make something, but much more difficult to make something really well."

Adrian grinned. "One day, when we're married, I'm going to get you a house-elf and then you won't have to worry."

Millicent's mouth fell open. "Married?"

Adrian shrugged. "Isn't that what people do?"

Millicent's stomach had flipped. She'd dreamed of getting married, of course - what Slytherin girl didn't? Even though she was half-blood, she had a good name, a family with money (and, since her mother's death, a large inheritance of her own) and good connections. But to think it might really happen one day, and soon, not in some distant, dreamed-of future... "You'll have to ask me properly," she told him. "Not yet, though - Father would never allow me to get engaged at my age."

Seeing her startled, hopeful expression, Adrian wanted to hug her. Millicent had a real temper, but she also had a huge capacity for happiness. "We could elope," he joked.

She nodded thoughtfully.

**

Adrian had been working hard to avoid Fleur and Bill at work. It wasn't too difficult as Fleur only worked part-time and Bill was very much in demand. However, one day the tall redheaded man sat down next to Adrian in the canteen. Adrian noticed that Bill had larger portions than was standard - even the bank's cooks seemed to like him and treat him favourably.

"You're off to Mexico soon," Bill said.

Adrian, mouth full of lasagna, nodded. He swallowed. "A couple of weeks."

"I've got a favour to ask," Bill said quietly. "Only a little one." He looked expectantly at Adrian.

Adrian's automatic instinct was to say 'no', just to be the one person who didn't fall for Bill's glamour, but he was intrigued. "What?"

"If someone asks you to take something with you or bring something back, will you tell me? I know it's asking a lot..." Bill mashed butter into his jacket potato.

"Why?" Adrian asked. "Why would anyone ask me? And why would I tell you?"

Bill frowned. "Sorry. Forget we had this conversation." He moved as if to stand up, but Adrian caught his sleeve.

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it," Adrian said. "I just want to know what you're getting me into."

Bill rested back in his chair again. "With the various abductions and killings, there are fewer people importing certain potion ingredients, particular magical items. I'm interested in who wants what and where it's going. You just have to let me know who wants things. Whether or not you get it for them is up to you."

"Blood Traitor Weasleys," Adrian said without thinking, then seeing Bill's face said, "That's what you were all known as to everyone in Slytherin, it's not my opinion. I've got a half-blood girlfriend; to some people I'd be a Blood Traitor myself. I worry about her. She's friends with Draco Malfoy." He watched Bill's knuckles whiten as he gripped his cutlery harder when Adrian mentioned the name. A thought occurred to him.

"If she's friends with Malfoy, she's safe," Bill told him. "From the Death Eaters, at any rate."

"She's a good girl, Bill," Adrian replied. "I'll pass on information to you. No skin off my nose. I don't want to know who or what you're involved with, but I do want you all to know Millicent's no Death Eater or sympathiser. She just doesn't give up on old friends." He shoveled in some more lasagna. This conversation felt horribly like he was taking sides in the conflict to come, and Adrian had never been one to do that. Still, if these few words could give Millicent some protection...