My Eldest Weasley

HELP THY NEIGHBOUR

Bill

"A VEELA!" Screamed my mind, for what felt like thousandth time in the last few hours.

The internal screaming, coupled with keeping my head bowed over my register for at least four hours straight now, has started making my head swim and my temples throb.

But the alternative was to raise my head and look at the beautiful French Belle sitting across the chamber on the ugly brown marble counter, and lose my mind completely.

Not much of a choice to make here; headache it is. But even with my head bowed, I couldn't get the image of her out of my head.

A long, thick sheet of silvery-blonde hair falling to her slim waist somehow emphasized her tall willowy figure.

Her breathtaking pale face seemed to radiate faint silver glow setting off her large, deep blue eyes.

Something about those eyes rang a bell of recognition in the back of my head. But even as I try to grasp it, the logical part of my brain snaps "of course you haven't seen her before! Can anyone forget her after setting eyes on her even once?"

I scowl as this thought crossed my mind, remembering all too well of how I had almost frozen on the spot after catching the very first sight of her.

I barely managed to come back to my senses before making a complete, gaping fool of myself.

I had done everything I could to avoid gazing straight at her by first, averting my eyes, and then practically shoving a pile of parchments in front of her face.

Having been a curse breaker of a few years now, I should have been able to recognize the spell she had woven on and around me after catching the first sight of her.

But still, it wasn't until she had turned and had almost glided across the room towards her desk, that realization had hit me with the force of a bludger that she was a veela.

Or atleast a part veela, judging by the fact that I was able to get out of that foggy trance in mere minutes. But even after searching in my brain the hardest for the last four hours, I still couldn't fathom the reason behind her being appointed here at Gringotts.

Working with the goblins had taught me that they never did something out of charity or sympathy. They did not even consider talent and competence as a contributing factor to appoint a wizard at Gringotts as long as they don't see some benefit for themselves in it.

I was appointed because they couldn't find a willing goblin - or any other creature, for that matter - to explore the graves and pyramid curses placed on ancient treasures by the old Egyptian wizards, and counter curses being one of my strong suits I was a useful candidate in their eyes.

But even as I was appointed, that nasty goblin who had appointed me had commented that goblins believed that "witches and wizards with even average looks do not have the brains to match it."

Then how did Ms. French veela get appointed here in Gringotts - Britain, when she isn't even from Britain?

Even I, who was a born and brought up British, had a tough time convincing higher authorities of Gringotts to transfer me to London from Egypt.

Of course, that could also be blamed on the current atmosphere of Britain. About two months ago, it was said that the darkest wizard of this century has returned from his so-called death again, by the same boy who has destroyed him 14 years ago.

Of course Dumbledore had believed Harry, and had taken it upon himself to do whatever he could to stop Voldemort from becoming as powerful as he was before his downfall 14 years ago.