The Grants Artefacts

01 Grants Artefact.

Grants Artefact.

It was incomprehensible how a city so big and full of people could be so quiet. When Arundel apparated outside number 13 Shadows Crescent in Bermondsey all she could hear was the patter of rain on the cobblestones and laughter behind the shutters of the only lit townhouse. She kept to the shadows, hands in her pockets and observed the open front door and the drinkers who had come outside to smoke. She saw Cornelius Fudge stumble down the stairs with a woman on his arm, not too dignified for the man who was popular for the next Minister of Magic. She saw Albus, the Hogwarts headmaster, talking to a man with a beard almost as long as his, observed how he leaned in close, how he touched the man's arm and how his eyes flicked up past the man to her. She noted who the man was, in Russia his nickname translated as the Grey Wolf, Albus did know how to pick em' she thought to herself. She dare not get close to the party, too much heat and too many big players who disliked her profusely so she waited, shivering in the rain until the party wound up in the early hours of the morning. Finally, she stepped from the shadows and made her way up the stairs to the front door. Three knocks, she took steps back and waited.

Alastor Moody, Mad eye, they called him, on account of his electric blue false eye which swiveled like it had a life of it's own in his empty socket and saw through walls and doors, opened the door to her and stuck his wand in her face, "You've got some nerve coming here," he sneered. "Dumbledore said he saw you."

"Are you going to let me in?" Arundel asked, ignoring Moody's hostility.

"I'd rather not," Moody stood aside anyway and dropped his wand. "But since i'm in such a good mood-"

She passed him, entered his hallway, which still smelled of alcohol and was thick with a fug of tobacco smoke, she noted the pink and green pinstripe wallpaper and winced.

"Living rooms to the left," he told her as he closed the door, one eye watched her, the other swung wildly around as if searching for hidden dangers she may have brought with her. It settled on her pocket, where a charmed bag sat heavy with numerous items she should not have.

"Dumbledore didn't stick around to speak to me too then? Did he go with Greywolf?"

Moody looked at her as if she had asked a stupid question. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked, but his eye was still focused on her pocket. She knew he wouldn't be able to see inside the bag but the fact that it was there was enough to get him worried. Worried enough to poison her, she wasn't sure.

"No," she pulled the bag out of her pocket. She noticed Moody's hand twitch as she moved, a testament to how nervous he was. He was the greatest Aura she knew, and a true master of nonverbal magic, she was quite proud to be able to make him so nervous. She rolled her eyes at him, "Don't worry Moody, If I was going to attack you I would have done it already, I want to show you something, can I?"

Moody nodded, "You better."

"Look," From the bag, she pulled a sword which looked medieval and she used it to brush aside half-drunk cups of alcohol and placed it on the coffee table. The cups grew arms and legs and scuttled away under the sofa where a horrid scratching and scuttling could be heard after. Moody's magic eyes watched them, though his real one settled on the sword.

"You shouldn't have brought that into my house," Moody growled, but he didn't seem too upset because he leaned in closer. "What is it?"

"It's one of seven cursed items called the 'Grants Artefacts,' Wisdom Grant was an American wizard during the civil war who used these against the southern soldiers. When all seven artefacts are combined they have the power to reanimate corpses, call up ghosts, curse whole civilizations of people with hauntings and mass hysteria. You know the legend of the headless horseman right?"

"Yes," Moody studied it, "I don't suppose this is harmless when separated from its siblings?"

"Far from it," as she said it, a floorboard creaked, a patter of feet ran across the floor upstairs and the sofa shivered.

Moody grumbled, "you won't be keeping that thing here. How long until it gets bored and attacks us?"

Arundel pushed her black hair back from her shoulders, "About five or so minutes I suppose. There are dark wizards hunting to reunite them. Hoping to resurrect one particular ghost."

"So you want my help to destroy this?" Moody caught her expression, "What?"

"You can't destroy them without having them all together."

Moody waved an impatient hand for her to continue. "Figures-" he muttered.

"The American wizards have the four already, they have been testing their powers on Muggles, there's been a number of horrific murders and mass shootings. But, there are rumoured to be three in England, this is one, there are two others missing."

"And..." The sofa started to creep across the floor she could see the glint of light on sharp teeth between the sofa cushions.

"And what?" Arundel smiled and put the sword back into the tiny bag. "I don't give this stuff up for free, Moody. If you want me to give you more information you'll need to pay me for it."

"Vulture," he spat. "Who found the American one's hum? If I were to track your movements over the last year would I find a lot of time out of the country?"

Arundel stayed quiet, she didn't feel threatened by his disdain. She knew what she was, muggles called people in her position 'weapons dealers' sitting on the fence between conflicts and exploiting desperate people by supplying to both sides.

"I'll arrest you for being in possession of dangerous artefacts."

"You can try," she shot him a smile, "Hard to disarm somebody when they have no wand. Do you really want to try me in a duel? Last time didn't go so well for you."

Moody's lip curled. "How much?"

"A thousand galleons," she watched him turn white, she knew he didn't have the money to hand. She didn't really want his money, she was just trying to drive up prices.

"Give me three days and we will negotiate. Where will I find you?"

"Diagon Ally, I'll be at Borgin and Burkes."

Moody sniffed, "Of course you will," he muttered and showed her out. "I need to move," he muttered. "Every bugger knows where I live."