"An expeditionary force is mustered as we speak." Continued the old accountant. "Our cousins from the continent are sending an expeditionary force of five thousands warriors and an entire group of human curse-breakers to assert the situation and claim back Brise-Roc if it is in hostile hands."
"You are aware it's a trap, aren't you?" Alexandra asked for the form. "So close to Flamel death, it can't be a coincidence. Someone is covering his tracks, and doesn't care how many wizards and goblins he has to kill to do so."
A loud sigh was confirmation enough Grimjaw had foreseen this.
"We have not the choice," told Grimjaw in a low tone where anger seems to fight with resignation. "There's enough gold stocked in our vaults there to trigger an economic crisis if it came out it was stolen. And while the defenders of Brise-Roc were surely taken by surprise and treachery" his voice snarled at the last two words, "the army we are sending will be ready for war."
"If you have the situation so well in hand, I don't see why you are telling me all of this." The Potter Heiress remarked with a point of disappointment in her voice. "After all, I'm not a Gringotts employee."
Alexandra was hardly a curse-breaker or whatever job the goblins hired wizards and witches for in their bank either. Truth to be told, after one year of magical education, the green-eyed witch doubted she knew anything which could be considered useful by the goblin bankers.
"This place is protected by several Runes creating an effect similar to an Oath of Silence." The smile of Grimjaw was disturbing. "You will not discuss these matters out of my office."
Taking a new inspiration, the old goblin continued in a tone which could be qualified as pompous.
"Several of the curse breakers we provide to our continental cousins have required assistants to accompany them, in order for them to be more concentrated on their curse-breaking tasks while the assistants do the unimportant job of cooking, cleaning and guarding the camp. Being gracious employers, we are of course delighted to provide them such help."
"Of course." Said Alexandra sarcastically. "And the real reason?"
"The curse-breakers we send to France are all highly suspected of theft and having forgotten their duty towards the branch of Gringotts London more than once. But according to your Ministry, we can't execute them on the spot for their betrayal, Gringotts has to provide proof of their misdeeds. It will be up to you to find the evidence of their betrayal."
"Why me?" The young witch asked after a moment of silence. "Surely you have investigators in Gringotts ready for that sort of scenario."
"But my superiors are certain the cursed-breakers we're talking about are aware of their identity and their methods. Oh, they send them anyway. But I think you represent a much better opportunity. An eleven year old human will not attract as much attention..."
Alexandra groaned internally. Sometimes, she thought, her curiosity was going to be the reason of her demise. But the Potter Heiress asked the fatal question.
"Assuming you're right, why should I be crazy enough to accept this little offer to spy on wizards who can destroy me with one hand tied behind their back?"
Given the large toothless smile Grimjaw wore, this question had been largely anticipated. Damn the Goblins.
12 July 1992, Brise-Roc Fortress, France
"Tell me Miss Arwen. "Berated Henry Thurgood." Are all the mudblood children of your age so dim-witted or did you have to take lessons to be so stupid?"
Alexandra by a monumental effort of will managed to not take her wand and curse the man in front of her so badly until the man looked like a frog or a snail. It did not stop her to fix him with a cold stare she had perfected a long time with the Dursleys.
A few seconds passed in a cold, silent stare. Finally, Thurgood was the first to break the stalemate and lowered his brown eyes to look at his shoes.
"Clean this mess!" He snarled in an enraged voice where fear, anger and disgust were all present, before walking away in direction of the lower levels of Brise-Roc.
The mess in question was his own tent and everything in it, noticed Alexandra with a non-hidden disgust. Wizarding robes, food, bottles of Firewhiskey and Butterbeer, Knuts, potions ingredients and several instruments prised by cursed-breakers were littering the floor. An impartial observer would qualify it as a dustbin in her honest opinion, and it was considerably worse knowing that this last week, she had cleaned this tent every day thoroughly and in an exemplary fashion.
Cleaning the tent perfectly was not enough to the taste of Curse-breaker Henry Thurgood, however. Never mind the odious pureblood who had no skills in keeping order of his own possessions, he also insisted that because Alexandra was his assistant, she had to cook everything he wanted, write his memories-which-will-no-doubt-be-the best-seller-of the-year and a myriad of other tasks. All the while without him giving precise and coherent instructions.
After a week in the presence of Thurgood, punctuated by his insults of "mudbloods" and how she was a worthless being, Alexandra was really on the verge of murdering him. Only the contract she had signed with Grimjaw in this office prevented her to so, the accountant having been very clear on her instructions: the curse-breakers had to face goblin's justice. Her role was to find proof, not to execute the sentence.
On June 3, she had to admit she hadn't especially cared. Alexandra didn't like killing, Devkins had left her a very bad reminder, and it had been a case of 'me or you' when the Defence Professor had fought her at Hogwarts. She had been more interested in negotiating her services for the price of 2 000 Galleons and five artefacts of her choice found at Brise-Roc (under the condition there was no known owner to claim them back).
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