Matryoshka Vignettes
Sing A Song of Sixpence, A Pocket Full of Weasleys (3/4)
By Jeconais
Bill - Fri, 10th April 1998 9:02am
If there was one thing Bill hated, it was wearing a suit.
If there was one thing Bill hated more than wearing a suit, it was being called to speak to the chief goblin.
Bill took a deep breath and tried to control his nerves. He absently polished the front of his shoes on the back of the legs of his dress robes and tried to remember that he wasn’t fourteen and about to see Dumbledore.
"Come," a sharp voice barked, and he entered through the ornate doors and into the large office. "Take a seat, William."
If there was one thing Bill hated above everything else, it was being called William. He took a seat, restraining the urge to ask where the Goblin might want it taken. Rawshank, his ultimate boss, fixed him with a steely look. "You’ve worked for us for quite a few years now."
"Yes, sir," Bill replied.
"And in that time, you have done remarkably well; you are one of our top curse breakers."
"Thank you, sir."
"Now, I have a new challenge for you, however, it is of the utmost confidentiality. If you tell anyone, even your wife, about this job, you will have your magic stripped from you, and you will be sued into abject poverty."
Bill gulped; he’d heard one or two stories about Goblins doing that in the past, but had thought that it was rumour and hearsay.
"I understand," he said.
"I will allow you to decline, if you so desire."
Bill thought about it for a few seconds, balancing his curiosity against the threats. The curiosity won. "I’ll do it, sir."
"Good man," Rawshank said approvingly. "If you succeed, you will be promoted."
Bill nodded.
"A client of ours has recently purchased an island near Bora Bora," the Goblin explained, "and during the construction of their new house, they discovered a heavily warded Egyptian crypt that they believe dates back to around the time of Qa’a and the first Egyptian Dynasty."
"Wow," Bill said excitedly, "do we have confirmation about the dates?"
The Goblin paused and stared at Bill. "If this particular client is wrong, it will only be by a year at the most."
"Sorry," Bill apologised, wondering just who the hell the client was. There weren’t many people in the world that the Goblins respected enough to take their word on things.
"And while I am sure that the client could break the wards, given enough time, the client decided to bring in the experts."
"Okay," Bill nodded. "Can I ask who the client is?"
"Daphne Greengrass."
"Oh!" Bill said, suddenly understanding the need for secrecy. "I understand."
"I thought you would," the Goblin said, and placed an object on the table in front of him. "A Portkey to the island."
"Miss Greengrass is a highly valued client of Gringotts, and as such, everything you see on the island is to be treated with the same confidentiality I mentioned earlier."
"I understand, sir," Bill repeated.
"If you need any further resources, ask for them immediately."
"I will," Bill promised, starting to wonder just what pull Daphne had with the Goblins. This sort of mission was practically unheard off.
"Every member of Gringotts who arrives at the Island will receive the same warning, and that includes your wife - if you decide she would be of help."
"Thank you sir, I won’t let you down."
"No, you won’t," Rawshank agreed, and indicated the Portkey in front of him. "To active it, simply say 'island’."
Bill nodded and stood, recognising the dismissal. He pocketed the Portkey, bowed to the Goblin and walked out.
As soon as he was out of the office he pulled at his tie, sighed in relief, and walked to the Apparation point.
"Bill?" Fleur asked, as she walked out of their kitchen.
"New mission," Bill said with a grin. "Could be a promotion in it for me."
"Oooo," Fleur said happily. "What is it?"
"I can’t say. Mr Rawshank told me that if I did, I would be turned into a squib and sued into oblivion."
"It’s not just a rumour then?"
"Nope, not at all."
"How long will you be?"
"I don’t know - I really don’t know everything. But if I can, I’ll ask permission from the clients to allow you come along. I’ve been given carte-blanche to do what is needed to please the client. It looks like the Goblins are finally realising that anyone can do a good job, but if you want it done right, you really need a Weasley!"
His wife laughed under her breath. "Then you must go immediately," she said in a solemn voice and kissed him gently. "Let me know what you can when you can."
"I will," Bill promised, before dashing into the bedroom to get dressed in his favourite curse-breaking outfit - a brown corduroy pair of trousers, a thick brown cotton shirt, and a nice wide brimmed brown hat.
He picked up a battered old suitcase with his curse-breaking and identification tools and activated the Portkey.
He arrived in paradise. Or, what he presumed paradise would look like. Everything seemed more colourful — especially compared to the dusty landscape of Egypt he was used to.
A house-elf appeared in front of him, and silently led him down a garden path to one of the most impressive houses he’d ever seen. It looked like it was a natural extension of the lush foliage around — and it looked big enough to house the annual curse-breakers convention.
He was shown to a seat on a long L-shaped couch by the elf, and sat down, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed. The elf reappeared and handed him a drink, before vanishing again. The silence was a little unnerving.
He looked up as a door opened, and Daphne Greengrass entered, and he swallowed — hard. He reminded himself that he was married, happily so, to a beautiful Veela— and that the girl was far too young for him.
She looked like she’d been in the gym, as she was glowing with energy, and just a little sweat. She was wearing a pair of pale blue shorts with a light and dark blue stripe down each side and a matching crop-top that emphasised the assets she’d mentioned at Harry’s funeral.
"I didn’t expect you so early," she said without apology as she sat comfortably near him.
"Sorry," Bill muttered, and made a mental note to see if Daphne had any Veela blood in her background.
She shrugged elegantly. "What do you know about why you are here?"
"That you discovered a tomb that you think dates back to Qa’a, Miss Greengrass."
A flicker of amusement appeared in her eyes, but it was gone before he could work out what it meant. "Please," she said dryly, "call me Daphne."
Bill nodded.
"And you have been told about the secrecy I desire?"
"I have," Bill said. "The Goblins were most clear on that point."
"Rawshank’s such a nice guy," Daphne said absently.
Bill nodded, trying to hide the turmoil in his mind. No one, not even the other Goblins, called Rawshank by his name. This was the Goblin that ran Gringotts’ global efforts — their de facto ruler — and yet here was Daphne talking about him like he was a personal friend.
"In that case, you may now know the first secret," a new voice said, causing Bill to look up.
It took him a few seconds to realise that the man in front of him was Harry Potter. He remembered the picture Daphne had shown at the funeral — with Harry just out of the shower.
Harry was dressed the same way now, as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. The differences between now and then were obvious — he’d acquired a deep tan, and must have been putting a lot more effort into the gym, because like Daphne, he was glowing with health and vitality.
"Harry?" he croaked.
"Rumours of my death were greatly exaggerated, paraphrasing Mark Twain."
Bill got to his feet and smiled; he walked over and stuck out his hand. "I’m sure you’ve got a killer story about all of this, but for now, I’ll just say that it is really good to see you alive!"
"Thanks," Harry replied, shaking his offered hand.
"Now that’s out of the way," Daphne said, "I’ll have my own shower and meet you outside later."
Harry nodded and smiled as Daphne kissed him on the cheek and walked through a door to the side.
"Well, let me show you the tomb," Harry said and walked back outside.
"Nice place you have here," Bill said, a little surprised to find he wasn’t sure how to talk to the young man in front of him — but then, he had never really known him that well, more as his brother and sister’s friend, and of course, as the prophecy boy.
"Thanks, Daph and I fell in love with it when we saw it, so we signed the contract to buy it that afternoon."
"Cost much?"
"A few million galleons," Harry said dismissively, as if it wasn’t worth even thinking about.
Bill shuddered to a halt. "What?"
"About seven million pounds," Harry said, pausing and looking at him. "What?"
Bill laughed softly and shook his head. "You do know that there aren’t many people who can drop that kind of money on a whim?"
"A whim?" Harry asked, "I don’t think so. We plan to spend the rest of our lives here. Of course, it’s just our luck that we stumble across one of those things that you shouldn’t find on an island like this."
"So, can I ask why you’re alive?"
"I think it’s that lack-of-death that I experienced that would do that."
Bill groaned. "Bad question; let me try that again. Why fake your own death?"
"Originally, it was to get away from everyone so that Daph and I could live in peace. But, well, as I keep saying, you don’t gain self respect by becoming what you despise. Dumbledore faked his death and I hated him for it — and while Daph has pointed out the different circumstances, I still don’t like what I did.
"Besides, one day Daph and I will want to send our kids to Hogwarts, so we have to sort it out first."
"Sort it out?"
"Sure," Harry agreed. "You know, remove Dumbledore, place McGonagall in charge, remove Rufus and place Percy in charge."
Bill stumbled and grabbed a passing tree to keep his balance. "Percy? But he vanished..."
"Nah, we found him, gave him a reason to live; he works for us now."
"He does?"
"Yeah, good man, Percy, made a few bad decisions, but haven’t we all?"
"I’m going to need to sit down, soon, Harry," Bill said weakly.
"We’re almost there," Harry smiled and turned the corner. In front of them was a circular hole in the ground. "I went down there to see what happened with the water, and found the tomb."
Bill nodded and sat down on the edge. "Percy?"
"He was drinking himself to death. I know what guilt feels like, so we decided to bring him here, make him realise what he was missing, and put him to work at the same time. He’s going to go and see Molly and Arthur tomorrow."
"What about Ron, Ginny, and Hermione?"
"What about them?" Harry asked coldly.
"Do they know you’re alive?"
"No."
"Can I ask why?"
He felt Harry looking at him, and wished he hadn’t asked the questions.
"Because at the moment, I’m still mad at them," he whispered. "Despite everything we went through together, despite the fact that they knew me better than anyone else, despite the fact that they knew what Dumbledore had put me through, they still chose to follow him, and not me. That sort of betrayal really hurts. I am trying to get over it, because I don’t like being angry, but at the moment, they are tearing each other apart at Hogwarts and acting like children."
"They are children," Bill pointed out.
"And I’m not," Harry agreed.
"Do I want to know how you know what is going on at Hogwarts?" Bill asked.
"Probably, but I’m not telling you."
"That was blunt," Bill said, grinning suddenly. "Look, Harry, my siblings, and everyone else, are fully capable of making their own decisions and living their own lives. I’m not going to judge or ask any more questions, I promise. I’m just glad you’re alive and living well with your girlfriend."
"Wife," Harry corrected gently.
"Congratulations."
"Thanks."
"Where did you get married?"
"Vegas, funny story about that — we’ll tell you later, it ended up with Fred and George as best man and maid of honour."
"You know," Bill said slowly. "I think I might need some fire whiskey soon — especially if these surprises keep coming."
"Well, the only other surprise I have is that Charlie’s coming over later today; we need him as well."
"Like you need me?"
"Pretty much. We’d have pulled you on board even if we didn’t have this tomb down below."
"Why?"
Harry looked at him for a long moment, and then shrugged. "Daph and I have a plan, and we’re getting the people we need involved."
"How do you know I want to be involved?"
"Because you’ll tell us if you don’t, we’ll Obliviate you, and move on."
"Blunt, again."
"I find that it cuts through the boredom," Daphne said as she joined them. She’d changed into a tight light-blue t-shirt, a khaki coloured pair of shorts, and some sturdy looking boots. She’d braided her hair so that it fell down her back, over a small brown backpack.
Harry smiled and offered her a hand down so that she’d sit next to him.
"So, a revolution?" Bill asked.
"Nothing as dramatic as that, we’re just changing what we want changed so that our family can go to school without worry," Daphne said quietly.
He couldn’t help laughing at the simplicity of the statement. "Well, if Fred, George and Percy are already in, you can count me in as well."
Harry smiled. "Shall we go Tomb Raiding?"
Bill blinked and then looked at Daphne again as a memory stirred deep in his mind.
Daphne looked at Harry fondly. "He picked up a Play-Station a few weeks ago."
"A Play-Station?" Bill asked, unsure about the unfamiliar terminology.
"I’ll show you later," Harry offered. "Daph was referring to a Muggle game called Tomb Raider, about an expert who gets into adventures while doing exactly that."
"And, well, lets just say that we share a few characteristics," Daphne finished smoothly. In a flowing movement, she stood and dived into the well, somersaulting gracefully on the way down.
"She wears that outfit just to tease me," Harry said quietly, "but damn, it’s good to be me." With a grin, Harry stood, turned, and back flipped into the hole.
Bill shook his head in amusement — that had been a pure man-to-man moment, and he found himself envying Harry. He didn’t even want to think what Fleur’s response would be if he asked her to dress up like someone else, but it seemed that Daphne was self-confident enough to do it to tease her husband.
With a nervous sigh he pushed himself off the edge and grabbed his wand, hoping he remembered the levitation charm in case he needed it.
At the bottom of the well, he felt some magic slow his fall and smiled in relief.
"Come on," Harry said excitedly, and took off down a well-lit path. The light was coming from crystals, which Bill presumed were charmed to stay bright.
Harry was almost vibrating with excitement, while Daphne looked cool and collected, as if she was merely out for a stroll. It was only the fond looks that she gave her husband that hinted at the relationship they might share in private.
They rounded a corner, and Bill stumbled to a halt.
"Qa’a?" Daphne asked.
He nodded. "You’re right."
Daphne nodded while Harry looked proudly at her.
"You want the good news or the bad news?" Bill asked.
"Good," Harry said, at the same time that Daphne said bad.
"The good news is that I’ve seen this before," Bill said with a smile. "These three figures here represent Ra, the Sun God — who was later combined with Amen to become Amen-Ra, the most important of the Egyptian Gods. The bad news is that it took a long time to get through it. On my own, we’re looking at maybe six months. With Fleur, we can get that down to three- three and a half. With more people, we can do it faster. There are a lot of charms to disable."
"I don’t want a lot of people here," Daphne said firmly.
"Me neither," Harry agreed. "I’ll go and tell Rawshank to send Fleur over."
"Invite him to dinner next week," Daphne added, as Harry grinned at her, and bounded off back the way they had came.
"He’s like a puppy at times," Daphne said fondly, almost to herself, before looking at Bill. "What are we looking at here?"
"I have no idea," Bill admitted. "Nor any idea what the hell it is even doing here. There’s no reason for it, and I don’t know of any documents that refer to it. But I can almost guarantee that it will be magical. I’m not allowed to tell you what was in the last tomb like this I opened, but it was something very impressive."
Daphne nodded slowly.
"Can I ask a question?"
"If I don’t like it, I won’t answer."
Bill smiled slightly. "Who are you?"
"You’ll have to explain the question."
"You invite the chief Goblin for dinner, as if inviting an old friend..."
"He is a friend," Daphne interrupted coolly.
"Okay," Bill said with a small grin. "You’re friends with the chief Goblin and invite him around to dinner, you live on a beautiful island, but at the same time you are playing in the Wizarding world back in England, you’re cold when dealing with me directly, but you’re wearing some sort of costume to tease Harry. You make me jumpy, because I feel like if I do something wrong, you’ll do something about it - but Harry is completely in love with you, and it shows, and he doesn’t seem to mind."
Daphne looked at him for a few minutes, and he thought she was going to refuse to answer, but then she started to laugh. "I am Harry Potter’s wife," she eventually said, "just as he is my husband. Harry knows what I am, he knows that I have killed more than he has, and he isn’t concerned about it. He knows why I act the way I do, and he has accepted that.
"Just as I have accepted that I have married a Gryffindor, who is honourable, brave, courageous, and everything else implied in the statement. And just as I am affecting his outlook, I find that, grudgingly, I am accepting his as well.
"So, to answer your question, I am Daphne Potter, and very happy to be that —everything else is superfluous."
Bill nodded. It didn’t really answer his question, but he understood that was the only answer he was going to get.
He opened his suitcase and pulled out his reference book. He could feel Daphne as she stood to one side, learnt against a wall, and watched him. As he had thought, the tomb had a massive amount of security facing him, and he felt the same excitement he always did. He’d never found a door yet he didn’t like to be on the other side off.
He didn’t know how long he worked, but he was interrupted by Daphne placing a hand on his shoulder very nicely.
"It’s lunch time," she said. "Your wife is here as well."
Bill nodded and placed his book and notepad down, and followed her back through the cave. As she approached the light streaming down, she took a few quick steps forward, and jumped into the centre — the magic then lifted her straight up — she twisted gracefully as she flew up.
Bill shook his head and followed her movement, landing in the same spot. He shot straight up, as if exploded out of a cannon, and flew into the light. He blinked and floundered as he started to fall down, only to be grabbed by a fist grasping his shirt.
With a deceptive ease, Daphne pulled him to one side and placed him back on terra firma. He looked at her with new respect and she shrugged. "Harry introduced me to the gym," she explained, "and we both like the results in each other."
Bill nodded and followed her down the path.
Inside the main room, Fleur was sitting close to Harry, who was lounging comfortably.
Daphne opened the door and sat next to Harry, taking his hand.
"Daphne, this is Fleur, my opponent in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and Bill’s wife. Fleur, this is Daphne, my wife, my love, and my saviour."
"That is a gorgeous ring," Fleur said, looking at Daphne’s hand.
"Thank you," Daphne replied. "I was surprised when Harry chose it."
"I had help," Harry admitted cheerfully. "The first ring we chose was thrown off a balcony in disgust."
"It is wrong of me," Fleur said, still looking at Daphne, "but I did enjoy your speech at the funeral — and now that Harry is alive, I can enjoy the memory even more."
"Oh?" Daphne asked.
Bill felt Fleur look at him and he shrugged, having no idea what his wife meant.
"I do not like Ginny," she explained. "I do not like the nickname 'Phlegm’, and I did not think her worthy of the man who saved my sister. You, on the other hand, appear more so."
Daphne slowly smiled at Fleur. "Thank you."
"And you have a lovely home," Fleur continued. "Will you show me around?"
"Ten minutes 'til lunch, Daph," Harry said.
Daphne nodded. "We can see the ground floor in that time, come on."
Bill watched as his wife and Harry’s walked out.
"We’re very lucky men, Bill," Harry said quietly as he watched them.
"They’re almost complete opposites," Bill agreed, as the tall elegant pale blond followed the shorter, curvier, brunette, "but both gorgeous. I didn’t know that Fleur knew about that nickname."
"Nor did I," Harry agreed. "And I’ll apologise later. I think she suspected I was alive, because she didn’t show any surprise when I welcomed her."
"Fleur is like that," Bill said with a smile. "Some people fall for her vapid-blonde routine, but underneath that is a highly competent witch."
"She wouldn’t have been Beauxbatons champion otherwise," Harry pointed out easily. "I’m glad she seems to be getting on with Daphne. She’s not really had any female friends before."
"And you’re worried about that?"
"A little," Harry sighed. "At some stage I’ll get over my problems with Hermione, and I’ll want to be friends with her again."
"And if Daphne doesn’t get on with her?"
"She’ll try to, for me," Harry said. "But in the end, Hermione’s my best friend, but Daphne’s my life. There’s no comparison."
Bill nodded slowly. "To be honest, I think Fleur would like a friend as well - we spend too much time on the road to allow her to make any grown up friends."
"What about us, Bill?"
Bill looked at Harry and opened his mouth, before stopping and looking at him again closer. He nodded and smiled, offering his hand.
Harry took it, and they shook.
"Just one thing," Bill said.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, don’t call me William."
Harry just laughed.