It is so dark. Why is it like this? He can hear music again. Haunting, lilting, seductive. Suddenly something brushes against his torso. He clutches his midriff in shock. It felt like a hand. He is definite. He turns his head. Still nothing. Only the solid, oppressive darkness. Then the scene shifts.
He is in a valley of flowers again. Too sunny, too colourful, it hurts his retinas. Blue flowers everywhere. He frowns. He has seen them before. He looks up and gets surprised. He is not under the sky but instead under a glass dome. A greenhouse? Then why does he feel soil under his bare feet? He crouches and tentatively touches a stalk. He peers closer. He knows this flower, he is sure. The drooping stalk and the bell shape is familiar. This are bluebells aren't they? He stands up straight again. What is he doing here?
"Sherlock?" a soft feminine voice calls him from behind. He turns around to find Hermione seated on the ground dressed in some white material. He is really confused now. She beckons him to her. He obeys and seats opposite her.
She does not say anything. She smiles up at him, tugging a smile out of him too. He thinks dream Hermione is even more beautiful than real Hermione. He reaches out and touches her hair. She puts her hand on his cheeks.
But then, the scene changes again. The sunlight is gone, replaced by clouds and rain. The flowers have turned to ash. And Hermione lay in his arms, brown eyes vacant and unseeing, and her white dress blood-soaked. He stares with his chest tight, and breathe scarce. What?
The rain and blood mix with the ash and makes a puddle around him. He finds himself crying. A booming laughter fills the air. He looks up to find Moriarty standing at a distance. He points at the dead body in Sherlock's arms and shouts, "How will you save her?"
"No!" Sherlock cries as he wakes up. He opens his eyes and is glad that he is in his living room. He must have dozed off. He blinks and shakes his head. That was a truly disturbing dream. Hermione is okay and alive and out with her former sister-in-law. As he brings his hands closer to rub his face, he notices the ring she gave him glowing again. He takes it off and stares at the glowing runes engraved on it. He frowns, what do they mean and why are they glowing?
He stands up, maybe he will find the answer on her bookshelf. He heads to her apartment.
"Hermione? Do you mind if I head to Slug and Jiggers Apothecary? I need to pick up some potion ingredients," Ginny asks, dragging Albus along.
Hermione and Rose acquiesce. Both excited to accompany Ginny: Hermione does need to replenish ingredients and to Rose every magical shop visit was always welcome.
Albus asks, "What is an apothecary?"
Rose, raises her chin, and replies, adopting a haughtier tone, "In Muggle terms it means a druggist or pharmacist, then some witch or wizard adopted the meaning to magical potions, since Muggle medicine and magic potions are quite similar."
Albus nods, utterly impressed by his cousins' knowledge. Ginny grins, "Yes, you are Granger material already Rose! That reminded me so much of a twelve-year old Hermione Granger!"
Hermione coyly smiles. Hearing praise about one's offspring is always a good thing.
As soon as they enter the apothecary, the children run off to explore with Ginny warning them not to poke anything. Hermione offers, "I will look after them, you do your shopping."
Rose shouts from a corner, "Mom! Come look at this!"
Hermione gets to her daughter to find her pointing her finger at a cauldron bubbling and boiling and an occasional heart-shaped bubbles popping over it. She frowns, she can guess what that is. Amortentia, an old foe.
An elderly woman with way too much make-up on says to Rose, "Say, little lady, do you want a vial? To charm your prince?"
Hermione scowls, gritting her teeth, "She is eight."
The lady smirks at her, "What about you ma'am? Maybe I can sell you some for your husband?"
Rose chirps, "Oh, dad and mum are divorced."
Hermione stares at her daughter in disbelief. She cannot believe her own flesh and blood sold her out like that. The lady goes, "Oh. Then you definitely need this. Women of your age and time, so lonely, so lonely…"
"Mum! Is it true that this potion smells different to everybody?" Rose asks just in time because Hermione was prepared to stupefy the old hag anytime.
She smiles, "Yep."
"What do you smell mum?"
"Yes ma'am, what do you smell?" the old lady goes, red lips parting to show yellow teeth and pencilled on eyebrows arching way beyond their natural arch.
"Yeah, what is it that you smell?" Ginny joins in from nowhere.
Hermione looks over her shoulder to see Ginny grinning like a gargoyle. She shoots daggers at the redhead, whose mirth doesn't lessen any less. She has no option now. She knows Ginny will not let her leave unless she sniffs some of that potion.
She gets closer to the cauldron. The last sniff she ever had was of peppermint toothpaste and freshly cut grass. Her necks gets warm at that memory. That really was so long ago. She leans and takes a sniff. Her eyes widen. No.
Dusty books. Tea. And…the way his skin smells when he is aroused.
Oh fuck.
She races out of the shop. She needs fresh air. She needs to get that scent out of her lungs. She can hear Ginny calling after her. She can hear her daughter. But she cannot stop.
Just what she feared. It happened. She knew it might happen. But she was getting so good at ignoring those feelings. Stupid potion! This is why she hates love potions!
She feels like she dug her own grave when she started falling in love with Sherlock bloody moronic Holmes.
Then her phone starts ringing. Her breathe stops. If the universe loves her, it will not be him. She tentatively takes out the phone from her handbag. She looks at the screen and frowns. It is an unknown number. She only knows one person who calls from unknown numbers. It is not him, is it? She takes two deep breathes and answers it. She whispers, "Hello?" fearing the worst.
"Hello, Hermione? This is Narcissa Malfoy."
She frowns. Why is Draco Malfoy's mother calling her?
She had left the keys to her apartment with him. He lets himself in and heads straight to the overstuffed bookshelf. If it was anyone else, he would have got a migraine by now trying to locate a book pertaining to his query. He smiles as he realises just how super organised she is, so of course the rune books take him little effort to find: they are all neatly stacked in a corner.
'An Introduction to Runes: A Complete Guide' catches his attention. This might be helpful. He takes it out and sits down on the floor. The book is a foot long and might be heavier than two bricks stacked together.
It takes him a while, but he finds the runes he is looking for. There were four symbols on his ring. A 'X' symbol called gebo, a fork-like rune called algiz, an R shaped rune called raidho and an arrow pointing upward called tiwaz. He wonders what her reasons were as he reads the translation of each: gebo literally meant gift (she gifted him the ring), algiz translated to protection (he wonders if such charms work), raidho meant journey (could she mean this path they are on?) and tiewaz means…justice?
He closes the book and huffs. Runes are way too complicated. It'd be nice if she was here, then he could actually decipher why the ring glowed like that.
"Oh hello there."
Sherlock turns around to see Harry Potter standing there, grinning, with his trademark messy hair and his silent, stoic assistant Levin Dobrev. Sherlock gets to his feet. He says, "Hermione isn't here."
"Oh yeah, I know. I came looking for you. I need your help with something."
Sherlock glances at the runes book. He says as inspiration dawns, "I will help you with whatever you need if you help me with something."
"Okay, so what do you need?"
Sherlock picks up the book and hands it to Harry. Harry takes it and gulps. Runes, he hated runes. He confesses, "I am not good at them. But Levin is," he swiftly passes over the book to his assistant.
Levin mentally rolls his eyes. He asks, "What are the runes that need understanding?"
"Gebo, algaiz, rydo and tywaz," Sherlock says.
Levin fixes his glasses and stares sharply at Sherlock, "No. They are pronounced gay-boo, ahl-geez, rye-ee-does and tee-vaz."
Sherlock scowls and crosses his arms, "I have never even seen runes before this, so excuse my slip of tongue Mr. Dobrev."
In the staring match between Sherlock and Levin, Harry feels the temperature drop considerably. He clears his throat, "Levin?"
"Oh yes," he caresses the spine of the book ("Ravenclaws and books," Harry thinks), "gebo means to exchange gifts, the gravity of equals and opposites. The exchange of gifts, whether physical or otherwise, is a highly meaningful act, as is the idea of trade. The need for exchanged energies and powers to remain equal in amounts is at the heart of the rune Gebo. Gebo is also tied deeply to the exchange of sexual energies between male and female, and so it deeply governs mystical union, sacred oaths of marriage and sex magic.
"Algiz is the Rune of the essential link or connection with the patterns of divine or archetypal consciousness. Rune of the possible danger of realizing this link when unprepared. Courage in the face of fear is central, not the absence of fear, because fear may or may not be a warning to us that protection and defensiveness is necessary.
"Raidho is the rune of ordered movement of energies in time and space as it pertains to human awareness. It is the rune of leading by example and of actions that speak louder than words. It represents our deepest personal life journey.
"Tiwaz is the rune of the balance and justice ruled from a higher rationality. The rune of sacrifice of the individual (self) for well-being of the whole (society)."
Levin stops to see two flabbergasted men staring at him. He asks, "What?"
"You could have been a great professor," Sherlock comments sincerely. He is truly impressed.
"I plan to. My retirement plans involve teaching at Hogwarts," Levin says, a bit shyly perhaps.
"You'd be great at it," Harry beams.
"So, what would it signify if you put all of these together?" Sherlock asks, then, on afterthought, hands Levin the ring.
Levin inspects the ring closely. After a few beats, he says, "I might not be sure, but the combination of the four runes of gebo, algiz, raidho and tiwaz might mean a connection of a highest level. An exchange of fears, love and courage. It calls for protection on the wearer. A call on their righteousness and a prayer that their deeds signify that in their journey of life. May I ask where did you get this from?"
"Um," Sherlock scratches his neck, "Uh, it was a birthday gift, from Hermione to me."
"Gebo is also tied deeply to the exchange of sexual energies between male and female, and so it deeply governs mystical union, sacred oaths of marriage and sex magic," Harry thinks and gets downright uncomfortable. He says out loud, "That is a very thoughtful gift."
Levin gives the ring back to Sherlock who falls into deep thought. An exchange, a connection, protection and righteousness. She gave a whole lot of thought behind this. Is this why the ring glows every time he has dreams he cannot explain? And the flowers, do those have meaning as well? Harry wants to start talking again but the look on Sherlock's face stops him. Seems like he is really trying to figure something out. Before he can say anything at all, Sherlock asks, "What do you know about bluebells?"
"They are a flower," Harry replies.
"Bluebell flames?" Levin offers.
"Oh yeah, bluebell flames, Hermione was very good at conjuring those!" Harry says.
Something clicks in Sherlock's brain. But why would his conscious choose that flower out of all to associate with her? He knows the answer is out there but he was failing to grasp it. It is frustrating!
Harry, who is failing to take it any longer, says, "Sherlock? We helped, now it is your turn."
"What? Yes, yes. What do you need?" he says, too fast. Maybe he needs distraction. Maybe when he least expects it, the answer, the obvious solution will hit him.
So Harry recounts the story from how Percy Weasley's office was broken into to the little girl in the hospital.
"So—" Harry doesn't get to finish what he wanted to say when his phone starts ringing. He answers. It wasn't a long conversation. When he ends it, his emerald eyes are wide and gleaming, "The little girl is awake!"
A/N. Forgiveness for the delay. *hangs head in shame* Also, all my rune knowledge is from the internet. (It is such a fascinating subject!) So please, all of you out there with more and solid knowledge of runes, forgive me if I fucked up. Like Jon Snow, I know nothing. I only did what the great Lord Google showed me.