Means to an End

Morgan scanned the list of assistants Hermi had given him only moments before. He raised his eyebrows as (yet another) wave of shock crashed over him. Not only had she managed to find some of the brightest up-and-comings in the archaeological world to work under him, Hermi had single-handedly stolen the best from every major dig in the wizarding world. Techs and field-workers from his previous dig with Dr. Lee were named, a few specialized exceptional students from Cambridge...

"No linguists, though," Hermi said as she chuckled at his expressions. "Our English hasn't changed much over five hundred years, surprisingly, except for some minor slang. A few of the younger ones will be able to recognize runes if it comes down to that."

"Hermi," began Morgan. "I'm impressed, and so very pleased. But why these people?" Her quizzical glance spurred him onward. "Some of these people have very old names. For example, the newly graduated Dr. Chang was stolen from his first dig as a Ph.D."

"Chang isn't that uncommon a name."

"Mockridge mentions a 'Cho Chang' in his 2050 review--an elderly lady who funded some of the last major searches for the missing castle."

Hermi simply poured two cups of tea.

"And here's a young graduate by the name of Wood--a name also mentioned in the 2050 review. Oliver Wood supposedly tried to restart interest in the game of Quidditch before giving up in 2045. Andrea Wood has quite the love for quodpot, I hear."

The woman nodded approvingly. "You did your homework, I see. Now maybe I'll have someone interested in playing a game of Quidditch with me. Quodpot is so dull," Hermi said. "Fine, Morgan, I'll tell you. All of these people have old names because they come from old families."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Yes, I read all about 'purebloods' in your library. Such a thing isn't possible anymore. Wizardkind has become so integrated with the Muggle world it's a wonder they still remain ignorant to our existence."

"Don't be thick, Morgan," she replied delicately. "My family has existed for well over a thousand years now. As you asserted yourself only minutes ago, the list contains all old names. You have an old name, for Merlin's sake."

He had only known her for four days and already he hated it when she used archaic invocations.

"Listen Morgan, every one of us on this dig has something, or someone, to find on this exploit. I have a many-times-great uncle and aunt; you have a many-times-great uncle. Andrea Wood's many-times-great grandfather tried to revive a pre-Upheaval sport; Joseph Chang's many-times-great grandmother attempted several times to discover the fate of her old school-mates. In time, you will learn all their stories and come to realize that this has become personal."

At precisely 7:30 am on Friday morning, eleven people separated into two groups and Portkeyed to the site of Old Hogsmeade. Their equipment was already there when they arrived almost instantaneously. Seconds later, the sound of retching could be heard from the woods.

When an inquiry was made by Hermi, a smirking Dinah Parkinson told her, "That would be Xander Clearwater, ma'am. He prefers to travel in the Muggle ways; had bad experiences with Floo, apparition, and apparently can't take Portkeys either."

Hermi sighed sympathetically. "I suppose he won't be our runner then." She pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. "Marcus Bell will have to do."

"Right," Morgan began. "Mr. Jordan, would you set up the tents please? Preferably somewhere close the village, I don't like the look of that forest." He removed his wand from his side holster and summoned a collapsible table. Maps with complicated notations were spread atop it almost haphazardly. "We should explore the village before even attempting to find a walk or roadway. Many of the buildings are partially covered over with weeds and grass so be very careful when walking through this area here" pointing to a spot on one map "and that one over there. We can't be sure if bits of construction have fallen off over the past few years."

"Where exactly does this information come from?" inquired Laura Zabini, looking over the maps closely. "I mean, no definite explanation has been made on what Hogsmeade was besides a wizarding village--there wasn't a speck of dust left in the place when it was discovered fifteen years ago."

Hermi answered her. "My family library contains some pre-Upheaval records--I've brought some of it with me, which I will make readily available to you all before supper."

"Wait a minute," Morgan said, casting a suspicious look at his patron. "You don't mean to tell me..."

"That I will be staying here for the duration of the dig?" finished Hermi with a smile. "Dear me, I meant to tell you! Must've slipped my mind..."

As she was the one paying them, the younger people present merely raised their eyebrows but said nothing. Morgan, on the other hand, was livid. He began to protest but was silenced with a look from Hermi which clearly said, "Later".

"Fine," he groused. "Zabini, you take Flint, Parkinson and Wood with you and try to locate an inn of some sort--perhaps a pub or restaurant. Malfoy, take Bell and Clearwater and start looking for possible cottages, gardens, things like that. I suggest some minor illusion reconstructive charms be used in the shadier side. The area closest to us presently seems a bit more run-down than the area over towards the west side. Dr. Chang, if you will assist me and Miss Weasley with the equipment? We might as well put her to work as she insists on being present."

He received a dirty look but was allowed the luxury of ignoring it.

"I don't see why you insist on using Muggle equipment. Those charms the team at Exeter just developed really do work well."

"I've never tried them, and I don't intend to. I was schooled in both forms of practical archaeology."

"So?"

"So, I find that I prefer these methods."

"What if Dr. Chang disagrees?"

"Please, Miss Weasley, don't drag me into the argument again..."

"Quite right, Joseph! Hermi, why don't you go find something archaeological to do like I told you three hours ago when we first started this discussion?"

"And I told you, I'm a historian not an archaeologist."

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes. Historians are sophisticated archaeologists."

"Are you saying you have more class than me?"

Joseph inched his way out of the equipment tent, wincing as though his every movement would be taken as an agreement with one or the other of his superiors.

For four hours, Morgan and Hermi had been at each other's throats. Morgan was desperately trying to annoy his patron enough to make her leave; Hermi was simply trying to frustrate the good doctor into speechlessness (Joseph could tell she was having the most fun).

When Joseph finally made it into open air and breathed deeply of it, he spotted Malfoy, Bell, and Clearwater rushing back to where the camp was located (courtesy of David Jordan).

"Oi!" he called to them. "What'd you find?"

"Apparently the ones who found Hogsmeade didn't examine it too closely, or else stayed within the actual village limits," puffed Marcus Bell. "Look!"

Connor Malfoy held out a thick, folded piece of parchment. Joseph took it curiously, unfolded it completely, but could find no trace of...well, anything really. No ink stains, imprints of words perhaps from a piece atop it...he turned back to the three graduate students with incredulity in his face.

"What exactly does this mean to you?" he asked them calmly. Impatience etched his words.

"We did a test of the parchment itself," Connor charged on. "Two very definite dates appeared over it, the first time it was used and the last."

"And?"

"24^th October, 1976 was the first date," said Xander Clearwater. Joseph was suitably surprised.

"What was the second date?"

"7^th June, 1998."

End Chapter Two