Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
-Emily Dickinson
Chapter Text
Hermione was never going to win a mother of the year award. That was painfully clear. She did not enjoy feeding babies, or changing babies, or bathing them, or putting them to sleep. In fact, she was fairly certain she just plain did not like babies.
That said, Tom was starting to grow on her. The longer she was around him, the more his energetic magics beat against her senses and the more clear it became that this tiny round faced infant was not the Dark Lord. He also made Albus very happy, and while she wasn't sure she could ever love either of them the way she wanted to, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she might hold a certain amount of a higher affection for them. Anything that could bring such a look of delight to Albus' face was a good thing – even if it was a small puke and excrement factory with a very unfortunate name.
As spring neared it became difficult to even associate the gurgling laughing baby with anything remotely sinister and there were entire days where she forgot. He charmed nearly everyone that met him and after they got over the shock of his magical 'handshake' as Albus had taken to calling it, they would inevitably coo at him and tickle his tiny squirming feet. Albus delighted in dressing him in increasingly garish baby robes – with things like animated trains that ran around the cuffs, or juggling bears, or even small house-elf like creatures that danced ballet. Tom seemed to enjoy it nearly as much as his father.
In her darker moments she enjoyed imaging the expression on Voldmort's face if he knew…
NEWTs were just a few days away and she'd been spending most of her time planted face first into her books and study notes. Nicholas had given her time off her apprenticeship to devote herself to them and she did so with abandon. Cara and Galatea kept trying to get her to relax, but Magnus and Albus knew better. Albus brought her pot after pot of tea and Magnus simply avoided her. Lanky took care of the chambers and helped with Tom while Prof. Beery and Cara kept the greenhouses without her. She was determined to at least tie Albus' NEWT score. Armando thought it strange that she was so hell bent on beating her own husband, but Albus had taken it in stride, twinkling like mad. He'd laughed when she told him that in her time Tom Riddle had been the one to best him, so it would be unlikely she'd hold the record for long.
On some level she knew trouble was coming. Trouble always came at the end of a Hogwarts term. She'd been absent from the school for so long she'd almost forgotten – or perhaps she thought it was just Harry that was jeopardy friendly. Still, it came as a shock when it arrived.
"Have you seen Albus?" Armando asked and Hermione looked up from her book.
"Not since the morning. He took Tom to the nursery with Lanky and went to class I believe." Hermione replied, looking around the deserted library and realizing that evening had fallen. "Is he not in our quarters?"
"No." Armando scratched his head in confusion. "I sent him to the Ministry for a packet of paperwork they wanted his signature for – something to do with a proposal he wrote about instituting a magical primary school or other such thing. I expected him back hours ago."
Hermione frowned and marked her place in her book. "Has he come back through the wards?" She hastily shoved her study materials in her bag and stood up.
"No, and Lanky had to feed Tom his dinner, and you know how Albus is about that. He hasn't missed giving that child his dinner since we retrieved him." Armando shook his head. "I even floo called Nicholas in case he stopped over there to say hello. He hasn't seen him either. When I contacted the Ministry they said he hadn't arrived."
A cold feeling settled in her stomach. "Armando, you don't think something's happened, do you?"
"I'm not sure." Armando lead the way back to his office and up the spiral staircase. "Albus is an incredibly powerful wizard, as you well know. I hesitate to imagine what could have waylaid him."
"Other than a new form of muggle candy?" Hermione groused. "Have you tried his brother?"
"No, I didn't think of him." Armando moved to the fire and tossed in a handful of powder. "Hogshead!" he cried and they waited a moment until the irate face of Aberforth Dumbledore appeared.
The wizard sneered at Hermione but his expression turned alarmed as Armando explained the situation. "No, he's not here." Aberforth frowned. "Albus may be many things, but he's never one to vanish without explanation."
Hermione's stomach turned and the cold feeling grew. "Something is dreadfully wrong." She whispered, her senses going alert with dread. "I can feel it." She closed her eyes and centered herself, tapping into the magical currents from the lay lines under the castle. They vibrated with an odd patterned energy that made her hair stand on end but there were no peaks or falls that would have given her advanced warning and nothing to point to a location or source. "I've got to talk to Magnus." She interjected, cutting off the two wizards' conversation.
Armando blinked at her for a moment. "Oh, yes!" He said finally. "Magnus can help find him with the chamber. Good thinking!"
Aberforth grumbled something and Armando turned back to the fire. Hermione took the opportunity to leave. She hurried as fast as she could to Lestrange's quarters and banged on the door.
"What is it?" He yelled as he wrenched the door open.
"It's Albus. He's missing." Hermione pushed her way inside and ran a hand through her hair in agitation as he closed the door. "I didn't notice anything off, not till I purposefully checked the magical currents. Something is very wrong. It's subtle, but there's a pattern to the currents that isn't natural."
Magnus closed his eyes for a moment. He hissed and frowned, concentrating harder. "You're right. Why did neither of us notice this?"
"I've been spending so much time and energy studying for the NEWTs and whatever I have left I've been using to build up shields around Tom." Hermione collapsed into a chair by the fire. "Plus, I just healed enough to start working with the stones again and I've been running equations trying to figure which of the blood adoptions Albus found would work the best. Maybe I've just been too tired."
Magnus opened his eyes. "I've been merged with the chamber for at least two or three hours today. I should have noticed there was a situation approaching. One of us should have felt it. There's nothing specific, and while there's clearly a problem it's not behaving in a fashion that would have tipped me off without purposefully looking. It's very odd. I've never felt the currents behave this way before. There's a repeating rhythm that feels almost superimposed."
Hermione went still, a shock of dread going straight through her. "No." She looked up with wide eyes. "No, it can't be."
"What?" Magnus asked, alarmed.
"There," Hermione stood up, her arms going around herself. "There was a point, with Voldemort, when he learned we had access to the Malfoy stones. He figured out a way to destabilize the lay lines temporarily. At first it was very noticeable, like tossing a bolder into a pond to disrupt the ripples – you see the splash. But over time he refined it until I couldn't feel the build up to a problem. Whenever he'd accomplished what he set out to do, he'd stop the disruption and I'd feel the effect of his action. But while he was working, it felt very similar to this. Like a thousand small stones being tossed into a pond – too many ripples to tell one from another. He never managed to get it syncopated but it had the same unnatural feeling."
"That's impossible!"
"No, no it's not." Hermione stated grimly. "It's very very Dark Magic and it risks disrupting the entire magical network. Towards the end he got cocky and tried to do too much and destabilized the magical lay lines, caused a massive shift in magical energies that destroyed nearly every wizarding community in the United Kingdom. The shock waves reached all the way to China. The muggles thought it was…well they thought it was a massive version of a weapon they haven't invented here yet, but suffice it to say, it was bad. Hundreds of the thousands were killed. It felt like the end of the world. If Grindelwald has discovered a way to do this, he may not know the potential for it to backfire in the same way."
"But why would he try it now?"
Hermione's eyes hardened. "Belby. She saw me in the chamber, recognized what I was capable of. When she got word you were here, she must have told Grindelwald that with two of us here we were most of the way to a triad. She had to assume that we could work with Filius – she didn't know enough about differences in styles of arithmancy to understand how close to impossible that would be. They must be accelerating their timetable to try and compensate for what they think we are doing! She knew enough to know that disrupting the natural flow of the magical currents in the lines would hamper any advanced arithmancy."
"I can check with the Guild. Someone else must have noticed by now. Perhaps if we can get an exact time for when the disruption started we can narrow the motive." Lestrange moved towards the fire and the floo pot but Hermione put a restraining hand on his arm.
"Don't. They mustn't know that this power exists, Magnus. Belby is a fool and has no idea what she'd doing, but if the Guild perfected it, the ramifications would be disastrous. This won't affect normal, mundane arithmancy, and anyone doing advanced calculations will be slowed down but they should be able to slog through it unless it's connected to whatever they are trying to hide. The closer to that epicenter you get the harder it will be to pin point a reading. We can use that to our advantage. Instead of working with the flow as we would normally, try going against it. Find the areas with the most resistance in the equations; it worked for me with Voldemort. My guess is they've been at this for weeks, possibly a month or more and no one has raised an alarm yet."
"That could take days! And if they've taken Albus as part of their plan, Merlin knows what they are doing to the man."
"I know." Hermione set her wand carefully on the table and pulled out her beaded purse and looked down at it, her expression turning grim. "I'm going after Albus, Magnus. He's too important to events to risk him. I need you to stay here and do what you can to try and figure out what their end game is. See if Filius can use my stones." She slowly pulled them out and handed them reluctantly over before pulling out the Elder wand and transferring it to her sleeve. "I've used them so much they have adapted to my style. It's closer to his goblin nature so they may work reasonably well for him."
Lestrange held them reverently. "I will return them to you, Hermione. I swear."
"If I don't make it back," Hermione grasped his hand and held it, the stones clutched between them. "I need you to promise me…"
"You will make it back, that daft husband of yours with you." Lestrange objected.
"If I don't make it back," Hermione insisted. "Give the stones to Nicholas and tell him that when Draco Malfoy is 13 to deliver them to him – he'll be born the summer of 1980. And Magnus, Tom will become your responsibility. We haven't done the blood adoption but the paperwork is filed in the Ministry –Albus and I have legal custody and I am naming you the child's godfather." The snap of ancient magic burst between them at her words.
"Hermione," Magnus shook his head. "Surely there's a better choice as guardian!"
"You and Filius are the only ones that know the truth, and Filius only knows part of it. I'm trusting you to see he never goes Dark, Magnus."
"Hermione, I'm old. I many not live long enough to see this through."
Hermione shut her eyes tightly. "If I don't return, tell Nicholas that the carriage stopped for me and I gave my seat to you, for it carries only three. He'll understand."
Lestrange drew in a sharp breath. "He offered you a chance to use the Philosopher's Stone didn't he? And you turned it down?"
"Both of us, Albus and I – yes." Hermione smiled grimly. "I've seen too much death, Magnus, to strive for immortality. I know what it's like to watch all your loved ones die and I have no desire to repeat it for eternity. The Stone can only be used so many times before its power gives way – it cannot save everyone. When I turned him down, I told him there may come a time when I would send someone to him – and that he must, if he valued Light, accede to their request. Remember – the carriage stopped, but I gave my seat to you."
She hesitated, staring down at her wand. "I have another favor to ask of you, not for myself or for the Light, but for one I held dear." She looked up and smiled softly. "There will be a child born to a witch from the Prince line who defies her family and marries a muggle. They will have a child named Severus in 1960 in Cokeworth. See he gets my wand when he's of age to start Hogwarts. And…if you live long enough, when he finishes his Mastery, give him the notes that you will find in Albus' laboratory. They belong to him more than they ever could to me. And, if you have it in your heart, help him along the way? His mother made a horrible mistake and they both will pay for it dearly. I'd intended to kill his father." Hermione stated point blank. "But if I'm not here to do it, just see that he has decent clothes for school, proper books – let him start out on equal footing at least. He'll be a fellow Slytherin – you could call it House pride if you like."
"I promise." He solemnly vowed. "I'll take care of the child and see that your Severus doesn't face the same fate. I owe a fellow gwawr angau that much."
She stepped back and turned for the door but he grabbed her again and held fast, his fingers bruising. "And how do you intend to find Albus?"
Hermione's back stiffened. "If I answer that question it will make you an accomplice, Magnus. You can't afford to risk more problems with the Ministry. What we did at the muggle orphanage was a risk we had to take. This one I must carry alone."
"Let me help you, witch!" He hissed. "I have never met a more stubborn or ill bred example of witch kind…if I didn't know you were second generation I'd think you a mudblood."
"I am." Hermione stated calmly. "My cover story wasn't the truth – surely you realized that?"
Magnus stared at her for a moment before laughing harshly. "I've been training an actual…well, it hardly matters at this point does it? I'd have been obligated to help you regardless and we both know it."
"Despite your pureblood elitism, I've found you to be a surpassingly good person." Hermione admitted softly. "If it comes to it, you must promise me you won't pass your beliefs on to Tom. He can ill afford the encouragement."
"I'm entrenched in my ways and I will never be pleased by the two races mixing." Lestrange grumbled. "But he's a halfblood and I wouldn't wish to make him more miserable after being twice orphaned. I'd do my best to…keep my opinions to myself. He'd still notice it, I'm sure."
"Just do your best." Hermione opened the door and stepped through.
"You don't think you'll survive." Magnus whispered softly. "You believe this is a suicide mission."
Hermione turned and looked at him, a calmness to her eyes that only someone who had faced death and grown to accept it could ever have. "I have always done what I must, to serve Light. The oaths we took, Magnus, have asked much of us both. If I must sacrifice my life to save Albus than I will not hesitate. My mission here is complete. You said it. I succeeded. Tom will never be Voldemort. But Albus – there is so much he has yet to accomplish. His story is only starting."