Something awoke Oliver, his eyes snapping open, adjusting to the dim light of the candles in the tent. He started to turn over, stilling when he heard the hushed voices of Hermione and Remus.
"...there is nothing to tell," Hermione insisted, her low voice almost inaudible.
Oliver frowned, listening as he watched the shadows against the wall of the tent.
"No? I trust you, Hermione. But you need to be honest with me, even if you cannot be honest with the others," Remus replied, moving towards her.
Hermione took a step back, her mouth gaping at his words. "I have been honest with you, Remus. But you are a fine one to talk about honesty and openness when you have secrets yourself," Hermione lectured, giving Remus a pointed look.
"You know that's not the same thing," he replied, "and yet, it's ironic that you should bring that up."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Remus gave her a soft lopsided smile. "Top notes of Citrus, Cardamom, Paprika, Nutmeg, Caraway and Artemesia; middle notes of Lily of the Valley, Rose, Jasmine, Iris, Ylang-Ylang and Heliotrope; base notes of Virginia Cedar, Sandalwood, Vetiver, Vanilla, Tonka Bean, Amber and Musk. An interesting choice don't you think?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her as he stepped towards her once more. "To most people it could be passed off as your own perfume, but it isn't, is it, Hermione?" he asked, his voice quiet.
Hermione shook her head, small tears trailing silently down her cheeks at his words as he stood a hair's breadth away from her. Oliver strained to hear Remus's words as he leant down to whisper in her ear.
"The floral notes dry, plunging down to a carnal masculine scent; only one other person I know smells like that, and he lives the other side of this forest." Remus stalked over to the table, sitting down, waiting for Hermione to react.
"You don't need me to tell you that which you already know," she hissed as she wiped away the hot angry tears with her sleeve, bitterly.
Remus chuckled wryly. "No, Hermione. I do not. But what I do need you to do is tell me if there is anything else you are holding back about him. Anything that might put the others in danger."
Hermione shook her head. "No. If anything, the others are safer than you think."
Remus tilted his head as he looked at her. "What do you mean?"
Now it was Hermione's turn to chuckle wryly. "He is not 'on the side of the angels'. That is how he put it once. He is not on the side of The Order. But he isn't on their side either."
Remus considered this for a moment. "I thought that might be the case. Can we trust him?"
Hermione didn't answer.
Remus chuckled again. "Of course. Can you trust him?" he corrected.
Oliver watched her shadow as she nodded silently.
Remus let out a breath. "Then that's good enough for me."
"You still haven't answered my question, Remus," Hermione reminded him, coming to sit across from him.
In his bed, Oliver turned over, watching as Remus turned to face Hermione.
"You know why," he gave her a tired smile.
Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't. Harry and Ron have secured the artefact. If anything we should be at one of the other properties, not at the same one."
Remus took one of the sheets of parchment detailing the notes she had made that afternoon, but in the dim light and from his bed, Oliver could not see what he was pointing to.
"Yes, but I still don't understand. This is exactly what I am talking about. For once, give up the riddles and just tell me what is going on. You say you need to be able to trust him, that you need to be able to trust me, that it's me who is keeping secrets, but you hold back, all the time. I understand it with Dean, Oliver and Dennis. But I don't understand it with me," she hissed, her voice betraying the strain she felt.
Remus let out a long sigh, carding his hands through his hair. "It's all very well collecting these artifacts, but you know we need to destroy them. And the key to that, as you know, is the very creature Harry slayed in his second year."
Hermione frowned. "Then I don't understand. Why haven't we gone to Hogwarts?"
"Don't you think You Know Who has thought of that?" Remus asked, emitting a tired chuckle before turning quiet, his expression turning from quiet humour to a more sombre brooding. "We need to get into the Manor," he explained.
"You think he is hoarding venom?" Hermione asked, shocked.
Remus shook his head. "He is hoarding venom but that's not what Arthur and I think is here. I think he has something even more valuable that only a worthy Gryffindor can locate."
Stunned, Hermione took in his words, silent as Remus excused himself to go fetch water.
Oliver watched as Remus stepped out of the tent, dropping the heavy canvas as he went.
Hermione took a deep breath, standing from the table, her footfalls light as she made her way down the steps towards her bunk. She paused as she reached Oliver's bed, her head turning slightly as she spoke. "You caught all of that didn't you," she stated, her voice low.
"Yeah, I did," he replied, stunned that she had been aware that he had been awake the whole time. He sat up, swinging his legs round.
Hermione closed her eyes. "I should have known that he could smell it."
Oliver looked at her, confused.
"His cologne. He could smell it on me," she explained.
"Ah," Oliver replied as Hermione came to sit beside him on the bed. "Has he had word from any of the others?"
Hermione nodded. "Arthur's team have secured two. So have Bill's team. We just need to secure the means to destroy them."
Oliver twisted around to look at her. "Yeah, about that, what was Remus talking about. What did he mean: 'Worthy Gryffindor'?"
Hermione turned to face him, her eyes meeting his. "The Sword of Gryffindor."