Part Four: Memories

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

A/N – This story is non-HBP or DH compliant and can therefore be considered AU. For the purpose of this story, Bill is neither engaged to Fleur nor is he part werewolf. He might have been dating the blonde for a short time, but she won't be getting a mention.

Many thanks and hugs to WriterMerrin for all of her help.

--

Hermione stared numbly at the package in front of her.

If it had been from any other person she knew, the brown paper would have been torn from the box it was wrapped around already, and the letter attached would have been opened. It was a surprise. She had not expected to hear from Bill at all, and just when she least expected it, he sent not only a letter, but an accompanying gift as well. Scared at what it might be, she grabbed a pair of small scissors and cut the yarn that bound the letter to the brown-wrapped parcel.

She unfolded the letter and looked down at the familiar script. A pang of loneliness went through her. She missed him. It had been a month already, and while she had received bi-weekly updates from Ginny about the status of everyone in their friendship circle, she had not received a stitch of news from the one person she yearned to hear from. And yet, with the precious parcel sitting before her, Hermione was reluctant to disturb the paper and see just what he had thought of when deciding to send her a gift.

Sighing, she returned her eyes to the parchment in front of her and began to read.

--

Hermione,

I suppose I should have written to you sooner, but every time I tried to begin a letter, my quill would pause over the parchment, and I would be unable to write what I wanted to say to you. For that, I apologise. I have longed to write and tell you just how much I miss you and wish that you could come back to London – to Gringotts. Were it up to me, I would keep you here or I would have followed you on your expedition. As it is, the goblins find that I am more useful to them watching over the others in the department.

Knowing you are over there and enjoying your time there and your work makes me long to be back out in the field. Maybe someday I will. Perhaps when that day comes, I might convince you to be there with me. The office has been a lonely place indeed without you here with me. Marietta Edgecombe, with whom you are not friendly, seems persistent in making some sort of trouble for you with the goblins, despite your departure. Needless to say, you won't be having any trouble with them. Miss Edgecombe might even find herself jobless in a few weeks' time.

Well, for now that is all that I have to report. I will write to you again one day soon. If perhaps you find that you have the time to spare, any response that you pen will be read and treasured. I hope that my gift will be useful to you while you are busy with your research there.

With Affection,

Bill

--

For a few moments, she simply sat and started at the parchment. It was written on his finest stationary and in the royal purple ink that she knew he favoured. His words on the page before her seemed sad. Like somehow as he had been writing the letter, his emotions themselves had fastened to the words he wrote and, as she read them, had transferred to her. She felt sad. Her fingers itched to open the package containing his gift. He mentioned it perhaps being helpful to her and her work.

Finally, after a moment of hesitation, she began to slowly unfasten the little bits of tape that were holding the brown paper closed. Pulling the cover off totally, she opened the box and was surprised to discover a leather pouch. It felt heavier than leather should, and she gave it a light shake. It made some clinking noises inside, so she began to open it to discover what it was. Just as she moved to do this, she discovered that her name and some roses had been embossed into the leather. It was dark cow hide, and it felt smooth beneath her fingers as she traced the letters. The pouch itself was an amazing gift.

When she finally unfastened the clasp, she tipped it upside down on her desk and watched as shiny, new tools slid onto the wood. They were the finest quality dig tools, of much higher quality than the old ones she had kept since her days as an apprentice. Each tool had her initials engraved into it in the same font used on the pouch. The inside of the pouch, while not lined with tools, appeared to be lined with soft fur. Smiling at his thoughtful gift, she placed the tools back in their places inside the pouch carefully.

She mused that it might have been one of the nicest presents she had received.

Just as she was discarding the brown paper and box into the rubbish bin beside the desk in her room, she heard her flat mate knocking on her door to let her know she was leaving. Picking up her wand, Hermione summoned all of her things to her and attached her new tool pouch to her belt before leaving the flat also. She met a few of the other researchers down the road just a little, on the way to the first Apparation point. A few Apparations later and she was at the top of the hill once more, looking down on the dig site.

Compared to when she had first arrived, they had made a lot of progress. The first chamber was totally exhumed, and many artifacts and a couple of books had been found. When Hermione had seen the books, she'd known that they were not the ones that she was looking for and had let them pass to one of the younger translators. She was looking for the real deal – the older and much frailer original documents that explained the customs and burial rites of the time. The documents she was after were ones that she intended to dig up herself before she left China for the Christmas break.

Heading down to the marquee, she dropped off her case before going straight to the dig, intent on giving her new, precious gift a trial run.

--

It was a mere four weeks away from the Christmas holiday, and a breakthrough had finally been made.

An ancient site plan had been found in a secret antechamber off the original chamber that had been exhumed. It had detailed the layout of where all of the small buildings and chambers that made up the tomb were, and the purpose of each. The main chamber where the Emperor supposedly rested was right in the centre, but was so much further down that it would take another month to finish. Hermione knew her documents would be in there. The entire history and culture of the time were all resting right beneath their very feet.

After they had discovered this, people trod far more cautiously, most just afraid that if they broke the roof, they would tumble through the ground and into the tomb. Hermione, while cautious herself, had snorted at the idea. People would believe anything, and she was sure that some of them feared that they would end up trapped inside a tomb for life. But she was a resourceful and smart witch – even if the place was booby-trapped, she was certain that she could come up with some sort of escape plan should the problem arise.

The day before when she had been digging, she had come across a short papyrus scroll that wasn't quite like the ones she was searching for. But she felt good about them and thought that perhaps they might hold the key to discovering where to look for the actual ancient scrolls. So instead of working in the dirt and sun all day, she had stayed up in the shade of the marquee and settled down to do some translations.

Pulling her gloves on, she pulled out a pair of tweezers and a magnifying glass.

By midday she was over halfway through translating when her young protégé, Adam Gardener, came up from the dig site. 'Hello, Adam,' she greeted with a smile, rolling the top half of the scroll carefully back into place with the tweezers. 'How is it moving along down there today?'

'Slowly, without your help,' he said with a grin.

Hermione chuckled at that. 'Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Gardener,' she quipped, pulling off her gloves.

'Did you find anything on that little scroll from yesterday so far?' he asked.

'Actually, I was just getting to the important part. But I think I'll need to have something to eat so that I can concentrate a little better afterwards,' Hermione answered, getting up from her desk.

'Let me escort you up the hill,' Adam said, offering her his arm.

'Why, thank you, Adam,' she said, accepting the offer.

They set off up the hill to the next clearing, where another marquee had been set up as an outdoor dining area. There were always sandwiches, coffee, tea and various types of juice set out for the hungry workers. Until now, Hermione had never been tempted up the hill to eat, but this time it was more important than ever that she get her translations perfect. It was crucial to her research that she did. As Hermione sat down with a small plate of sandwiches and a coffee, Adam joined her at the table.

'Madam Granger, I don't mean to pry, but why is it that you are never at the town hall with everyone else at night?' he asked as he munched on a sandwich.

'You can call me Hermione, Adam, really,' she insisted with a half smile. 'And to answer your question, it's because I've been studying Mandarin at the little school most nights.'

'Really? That sounds fascinating,' he said.

As they talked over lunch, Hermione observed her young protégé. He asked a lot of questions, was very attentive and did not spend the whole time talking about himself. It was nice, but towards the end there was a look in his eyes that gave her the distinct impression that he was attracted to her. That was something she could not afford – especially with someone a few years younger than she was herself. Adam couldn't have been older than twenty, and there she was, twenty-seven years old and the only one in the Gryffindor trio who had not settled down. Not to mention the fact that she was in love with Bill.

After lunch, she waved Adam on ahead and returned to her desk to complete her translations. As she slipped on her gloves again, she thought it was rather ironic that the one person that she thought she could count on not to make a pass at her had inadvertently done so with just a glance. Sighing, she pulled out her magnifying glass and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and a quill, beginning to note down her findings.

After a couple more hours of reading, Hermione finally hit upon the thing that she had been searching for. It was nearly right at the very bottom of the page in the tiniest writing, but it basically stated that the ancient scrolls and texts she was searching for were kept in a hidden chamber that was right below the chamber that the Emperor's casket was supposedly placed. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her day at the desk had not been wasted after all.

Tomorrow, when they returned to the dig site, she would head straight down with her tools and begin where she thought the door would most likely be. She was determined, if nothing else, to complete the task that she had been sent there to do. If she could get everything she needed before Christmas, she could go back to her friends and family sooner and could spend her time with her books and scrolls, translating them at home and at Gringotts. She would even have her chance to show Bill that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

--

The sun was beating down on the site regardless of the fact that it was nearly winter.

Hermione brushed away a bead of sweat that was slowly making its way down the side of her face. The roof of the main chamber had been uncovered already, and they were all well on the way to removing the dirt from the walls and unblocking the windows and doors. A lot more ladders and gear had to be moved in to help support the slightly crumbling structure and help get them in and out of the dig itself safely. The country was famous for the suddenness of its landslides, and Hermione desperately hoped that they would not be so unlucky.

In actual fact, the entire reason for the dig itself was because the burial site had been the unfortunate victim of a landslide in the past. It wouldn't have occurred as far back as when the buildings had been newly created, but at least one hundred years would have gone by for the red clay and dirt to have dried out the way it had. A lot of moisture had been sucked out of the earth by bone-chilling winters and a lack of precipitation in the province.

The area of the building that Hermione had been working away at by herself was near the side entry door that was mostly out of the way and towards the untouched area of the site. It was an ideal location for it kept her out of the way of other people's work and kept them away from her important work also. It also meant that she saw less and less of Adam as he assisted the old wizard that he had been apprenticed to more often now that things were getting a lot more delicate.

By the end of the day when the sun was setting, Hermione had managed to clear out more of the doorway and collected some samples of beads and colourful stones that she assumed had once been a part of some rather elaborate jewelry. She bagged them and packed them into her briefcase when she finally got to the marquee, which seemed to be even further away from the site than it had before due to how much further down they had been forced to excavate.

When she finally got back to her flat, she went straight to her bathroom, peeling off the layers of dusty, soiled clothing and tossing them into the wicker hamper. She would have to visit a laundry the next day and do some washing. She, unlike many of the other magical folk, preferred to have her clothes cleaned the Muggle way. Cleaning charms only worked well for a little while before even they could not remove stains or smells. Besides, she had always liked the smell of clothes fresh from the washing machine.

After having a soak in the bath for half an hour, she washed and got out, drying herself and getting straight into her pajamas. She had worked really hard all day and really didn't feel much like going anywhere. She settled on her bed with a book and cracked it open, beginning to read the first chapter. She was only a few paragraphs in when a tapping noise at the window alerted her to the arrival of some mail. She saw her eagle owl, Delia, perched on the sill outside, waiting patiently for her to open up and let her in. She unlocked the window and untied the letter from Delia's leg before taking the owl to the desk and setting her down beside a bowl of food that she had set out.

Cracking the red seal, she realized it was from Ginny.

--

Hermione,

How are things in the east, my dear? I hope you are doing well, if not better than your last letter detailed. Everything over here is just as you would expect. Mum and Dad are planning to go to Romania this Christmas because Charlie can't get away, so naturally everyone will just be having small, intimate celebrations instead of the huge festivities that we've all gotten so used to.

If you don't have any other plans for the holiday, Harry and I would love it if you would spend the season with us at Godric's Hollow. Bill will probably come to have Christmas with us too if that is any incentive. The holiday is only two weeks away now, as you know, and I am looking forward to your return eagerly. I hope that you get everything you need to before you come home so that you don't have to leave us again so soon.

By the way, do you remember the conversation you and I were having on the day you left for China? Well of course you do, you're Hermione after all. Well, it turns out that the Weasley tendency to have very high fertility levels has lent a hand to the contraceptives wearing off sooner rather than later. I'm already two weeks along and happened to discover so soon purely by chance. I'll explain it to you when you're home as it is a rather interesting and complicated tale.

We are all missing you loads and hope that you are doing well.

All of our love,

Ginny and Harry

--

As she placed the letter down on the growing pile she had received from her friends since she had been away, Hermione allowed herself a moment to smile. It was really good for Harry and Ginny to be having success on the family front. She was really very happy for them. It was not something she felt that she would want for another few years, if she ever did decide she wanted to have children. She had liked her life as an only child; she felt she could consider having one. As she climbed back into her bed and picked up her book, she tried to imagine what it might be like to have a family of her own, and whether such a thing would be possible for her and Bill.

She snorted. She and Bill weren't even in a relationship with one another and she was already contemplating a family between them. It was typical of her to over-think something like that. She opened the book and looked down to where she had left off before looking back over to her owl.

'What do you think, Delia?' she asked quietly.

The owl hooted softly, blinking at her a few times before lifting off from the desk and gently floating down to stand on the nightstand that was not covered in books. Hermione reached out a hand and stroked the soft, downy feathers of her head.

'Things are so complicated,' she told her familiar. For some reason, talking to her owl, despite the fact that the animal had no idea what she was talking about, was comforting. 'I sometimes wonder what it might be like to be a familiar. What do you sweet little animals think of us humans? You're such a beautiful creature, but you probably think that we are awkward and ugly.'

Hermione received another soft hoot, and she wondered for a moment if perhaps familiars knew more than they were ever given credit for. Running a finger over the pretty dark brown feathers of one of her wings, Hermione marveled at the texture. It was soft and silky, firm and flexible and strikingly beautiful, all at the same time.

'You're such a pretty thing,' she murmured.

Setting aside her book and giving up all false pretenses of reading that night, she lay back on her bed and succumbed to sleep.

--

The next morning, Hermione walked into the chamber and immediately made her way around the very edges of the room, checking carefully for any kinds of magical- and non-magical booby-traps. It had taken her nearly three long months to get into the main chamber, and she was looking forward to discovering if all the back-breaking work was worth all of the time and energy she had expended. When she was certain there was nothing, she turned back to the entryway and motioned for the other archaeologists to enter also.

She felt her way around the room with her sturdy gloves on, following the directions that had been laid out to her at the very end of the first smaller scroll that she had found. If she found just the right stone, the chamber that she was seeking would be hidden right below the big elaborate stone coffin that was the central feature of the room. She found a rough stone that stood out slightly from the others and gave a light push.

Something gave, and she felt the stones close to her feet beginning to shift and change as a set of stairs leading down to the hidden chamber appeared before her. Smiling at her success so far, she grabbed a torch and switched it on, wand in hand as she slowly but sure made her way down the stairs and into the secret pit below. What she found at the bottom of the stairs was nothing short of amazing.

There, perfectly preserved and in unbelievably good condition considering their age, were the scrolls and texts Hermione had been searching for, in the form of a great big archive.

--

To be continued.