For Julia, that half-hour felt like a century. Every time she opened her mouth to concede another asset, she felt the painstaking efforts of generations turning to dust. It was a physical ache in her heart.
Alan, conversely, pouted with a touch of performative dissatisfaction at the Travers family's stinginess. In truth, the final haul was far better than he had anticipated; the night had been a stellar investment of his time.
"Now that we have terms, I will go find a witness to administer the Vow," Julia said, dabbing the perspiration from her brow with a silk handkerchief.
"Just remember not to bring Umbridge," Alan reminded her. "She's too thick-headed. I'm afraid she'll flub the incantation and kill me by accident."
Julia offered a helpless nod. She stood up, but her legs buckled. She had to grip the armrest of the sofa to keep from collapsing. The negotiation had drained her mental reserves completely. She leaned against the wall for support as she slowly shuffled out of the room.
She didn't keep Alan waiting long. She returned shortly, leading a middle-aged man into the lounge.
"This is Cornelius Fudge, Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. I believe he is the most suitable witness for our purposes," Julia introduced weakly.
"Hello, Mr. Wilson. Your feat this morning is truly astounding; the entire Ministry is buzzing with your name," Fudge greeted him with an oily, humble smile. He had been plucked from his office by a frantic Julia and still hadn't quite grasped the situation.
"You're too kind, sir. I only did what was necessary," Alan replied, offering a polite smile. "If you don't mind, I'll preside over the preliminary secrecy vow first."
"Oh? Am I to take an Unbreakable Vow as well?" Fudge asked, blinking in confusion.
"It's a simple matter of confidentiality. Don't worry, Cornelius, it won't bind you to anything difficult," Julia added. She had dragged him in as a convenient acquaintance, not daring to explain the sordid details.
Fudge shrugged with an indifferent air, his eyes lingering on Julia. "Very well. To hold Julia's hand once more... it is worth a small vow."
Julia didn't acknowledge the flattery. She extended her hand blankly, and Fudge clasped it.
"Cornelius Fudge, do you swear to keep secret everything you are about to see and hear regarding myself and Julia Travers?" Alan asked, drawing his wand and channeling a thread of magic.
"I do," Fudge replied casually, still looking slightly bewildered.
Julia breathed a sigh of relief as the golden thread vanished. "Alright. Now for the main contract."
Alan nodded. He pulled a piece of parchment from his robes, adjusted a few figures with a quill, and handed it to Fudge. "Please administer the Vow according to the text on this parchment."
Julia watched him, her jaw tightening. *The little scoundrel had it ready.* She saw him finalize the numbers and realized there was no turning back. She had to swallow her pride and accept the loss.
Fudge took the parchment, smiling at how organized the boy was—until he actually read the words. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. If he had been more expressive, he might have shouted in shock. He looked at Julia, then the paper, then Alan, as if checking to see if he had been slipped a hallucinogen.
"Hurry up, Mr. Fudge. We're on a schedule," Alan urged.
"Julia... this... the content here. Are you serious?" Fudge asked, his voice cracking with incredulity.
He was prodding a raw nerve. Julia's heart was bleeding with every second. She could only offer a grim, silent nod. She extended her hand and clasped Alan's.
Fudge swallowed hard, his throat dry. He pointed his wand at their joined wrists, his voice trembling as he began the rite:
"Julia Travers, do you swear that upon Alan Wilson's fulfillment of his obligations, you will deliver to him twelve thousand, seven hundred and forty-nine Galleons, four pounds of Goblin silver, three ounces of refined mithril, a four-foot dragon heartstring, one pound of Goblin Urim steel, three pounds of Agriba alloy, six pounds of Paracelsus brass, a standard bottle of Felix Felicis, two pounds of Hungarian Horntail hide, one pound of Mooncalf hide... and permit him to copy any three-hundred volumes from the Travers library, guaranteeing that the selection includes all works owned prior to today without concealment?"
"I do," Julia barked. Her face was a mask of fury, her teeth gritted so hard her jaw ached. She was signing away the wealth of four generations.
It took Fudge several minutes just to finish the inventory. He took a shaky breath and turned his attention to Alan.
"Alan Wilson, do you swear to maintain the family secrets of Julia Travers, to destroy Gringotts vault key number 726, and to... to resolve the trouble Torquil Travers has brought upon his house, agreeing to cease all hostilities against the Travers family in this specific conflict?" Fudge sounded as if he were choking. The Vow made it sound as though Julia were a beggar pleading for the boy's mercy.
"I do," Alan said, his smile bright and easy.
A thin, dazzling tongue of fire erupted from the wand, wrapping around their hands like a red-hot wire. The Vow was sealed.
Julia slumped, her strength failing her. Fudge caught her arm to keep her upright. "Fulfill your end, Alan," she whispered, her face ashen.
"As you wish."
Alan tossed the brass key into the air. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a localized, intense flame. The metal glowed, buckled, and melted into a featureless lump before hitting the floor.
"And Torquil? He is under Moody's heaviest guard. How do you intend to 'resolve' him?" Julia asked, her voice dripping with resentment.
"That? It's quite simple." Alan raised his right hand and snapped his fingers with a sharp *pop*. "There. It's done."
"Are you mocking me?" Julia stepped forward, her eyes flashing. "You think a snap of your fingers—"
"Whether I'm mocking you or not, why don't you go and see for yourself?" Alan sneered at her outrage. "Is it so hard to believe I might know a spell or two that you don't?"