Hermione was halfway done with her visit to Malfoy Manor, and she couldn't be more pleased. She was almost finished with having to deal with the madness that surrounded Voldemort like flies to rot.
Today was also the day that Amélie was coming to begin her stay with Hermione.
"Bonjour, mon amie!" Amélie said, kissing both Hermione's cheeks.
"Oui, salut!" Hermione replied, genuinely glad to see the girl.
"The grounds here are astounding, almost as wonderful as Beauxbatons…"
Hermione grinned. "I'm sure Lady Malfoy will be pleased to hear that."
Just then, Lucius came strolling into the receiving room. "Lady, Caspari," he said in perfect French, "It is wonderful seeing you again."
Amélie giggled, and placed a hand in his, "You as well, Lord Malfoy. Your Manor is simply stunning," she replied in English.
His eyes flashed in approval. "Your English is quite impressive, my Lady. Please, follow me to your room."
Amélie sighed dreamily and Hermione rolled her eyes. Lucius was such a flirt, especially for someone that would likely be betrothed to Narcissa soon, if he wasn't already, that is.
Lucius left the two girls again when they got to the room, but told them he would be entertaining guests in the parlour should they like to join him. Hermione wasn't too keen on dealing with Lucius's 'friends' at the moment, but she knew Amélie would never let her hear the end of it if they didn't go.
So, the two girls finished up in the room and made their way over to the parlour.
Amélie was looking around the house with wide eyes, most likely thinking about the kinds of things she would be able to do if she were the Lady of the Manor.
"Lady Caspari, Cousin, I'm glad you could make it," Lucius said, standing up to greet the girls.
Hermione rolled her eyes at his bravado and sat down. Amélie blushed prettily and let him take her hand and place a kiss upon it while Narcissa glared beside Hermione on the couch.
"Lady Caspari," Narcissa said politely, belying the jealousy in her eyes, "It is lovely to meet you."
Amélie curtsied at the girl, smiling slyly. "You must be Lady Black. Hermione has told me many great things about you.
Narcissa arched an eyebrow. "I'll look forward to getting to know you, Lady Caspari."
"Please, it is Amélie."
"Narcissa, then."
Hermione watched the exchange with humour. Once both of the girls stopped competing over Lucius, they would be the best of friends, she was certain of it.
Introductions were made around the room, and before long, Amélie had assimilated properly into the group. She and Narcissa, like predicted, got along famously, all it took was a gentle nudge from Hermione. Apparently, they both agreed that St. John's Wort and Pumpkin flowers were très gauche to use as arrangements during a ball.
The boys, meanwhile, were discussing quidditch. Wanting to take no part in that conversation, Hermione decided to simply think.
Voldemort had been especially quiet the past few days and hadn't called on her at all. Normally, Hermione would have been pleased, but currently, it was rather worrisome. At least when she was with him, she knew where he was, and to a certain extent- what he was planning. Not knowing anything was deeply unsettling.
She was also worried about Mathis and his mother. She knew with dubious certainty that it was Voldemort who orchestrated the attack on their family and she wanted to know why. Yes, it could have been to teach Hermione a lesson, but for some reason, she doubted that. There really wasn't any way for him to know who she familiarized herself with unless…
Her breath caught in her throat. Unless there was a spy at Beauxbatons.
Hermione reminded herself that wasn't likely, but the only other reasonable explanation is that he chose randomly, and that wasn't his style, not in this time period, at least.
"Hermione, darling," Narcissa drawled.
She startled. "Yes?"
"Would you like to go as well?"
"Pardon?"
Amélie and Narcissa sighed in unison.
"Have you found she does this often," the English girl asked.
Amélie nodded. "Unfortunately."
They gave each other knowing looks.
"Shopping, Hermione. We are going shopping," Narcissa finally said.
She scrunched her nose up in distaste. "I don't really have much of a choice, do I?"
Amélie grinned. "I'm afraid not. Let's go grab our cloaks. We have already had a house-elf inform your mother."
"Is anyone else coming with us?" she asked.
"Yes, I believe the boys wanted to look at quidditch supplies," Narcissa responded.
Hermione heaved a sigh and allowed the girls to drag her to Diagon Alley. Unlike Irène, the girls would not let her just wander off to Flourish and Blotts.
"Let's all meet at the Leaky Cauldron," Narcissa said.
Hermione agreed and went through first. She stepped out of the fireplace and into the rather dusty establishment, glancing around. It was almost exactly as she remembered it. Waves of nostalgia ran through Hermione.
"C'est top ici," Amélie sighed dreamily, gazing to the bustling street outside.
Hermione smiled wistfully. "Oui."
Just then, Narcissa stepped out of the Floo, the rest of the group following shortly thereafter. She scrunched up her nose in distaste and held her head a little higher.
"It is filthy as ever in here, let's get out, quickly," Narcissa said, ushering the girls toward the back of the bar and into the alleyway.
Amélie gasped again when she saw the street before her. Certainly, it was a magnificent sight (though Hermione suspected the girl only liked it because it was new to her, not because she thought was better than La Rue de Épanoui).
"Over here, Hermione, Amélie," she said, gesturing to a much cleaner part of the street that Hermione knew contained only the most expensive stores. They were rather exclusive in who they would even let in.
"Where would you like to go first?" Narcissa asked.
Hermione shrugged, not particularly caring. Or rather, she desperately wanted to go to a bookstore but knew the girls would never let her.
Amélie started talking about shoes and Narcissa led the way to her favourite store. Hermione wasn't paying much attention to them, as her concentration was caught by a rather odd-looking building to her left. The other two girls, so immersed in their conversation, didn't notice her slip away to get a better look.
It was full of oddities, she noticed looking through the dingy windows. Hesitantly she opened the door, a little bell rattling behind her.
"How peculiar," she said to no one in particular.
The store was just as grimey as it looked from the outside.
"Hello?" Hermione called.
Still, no one came out to greet her. She stepped a bit further into the shop, eyeing possible escape routes. Other than door and windows, there didn't seem to be any obvious exits. She bit her lip and gripped her wand so hard her knuckles turned white. She ventured into the dingy store, glancing at the shelves, though she remained alert the whole time.
A bookshelf to the left caught her attention. Upon its highest shelf, lay a tarnished silver necklace. Entranced by its beauty, she peered closer at the delicate piece of jewellery. It was small; the pendant was barely the size of her largest fingernail. Embossed upon it was a rune that was oddly familiar, though she couldn't quite place where she had seen it before.
"It calls to you."
Fear flashed hotly through Hermione as she whipped around to jab her wand in the direction of the speaker.
An old man whose white hair stuck up in every direction stood there, smiling at her. "I mean you no harm. The necklace," he said, shifting his focus to the pendent behind her, "It calls to you."
She held her wand higher.
"I cannot tell you more, my dear, that would be a violation of our agreement."
"Agreement," she finally said, "We have no agreement."
He tilted his head. "No, perhaps not yet."
She glared at him.
"The necklace," said again, "It is yours. It calls to you."
Hermione shook her head, her wand still levelled at the man. "I'm sorry that just cannot be true. I shall take my leave now," she said and hurried over to the exit.
"You can run from it all you like, but it will always find you," he called out to her as she was leaving.
Hermione heard his warning, though she didn't pay it any heed. She was thoroughly shaken up and just wanted to find Narcissa and Amélie and get back to the manor. Luckily for her, she found the girls walking outside of a shoe store, chatting happily. She rejoined them and after feeding them some excuses as to why she left them, they continued their spree. Hermione quickly forgot about her strange interaction with the man in the dusty shop and lost herself in a haze of fabrics.
By the end of the day, all three girls returned to the manor laden with their purchases. Narcissa said her goodbyes and Amélie and Hermione retired to their suites.
Hermione began putting her new items away and wound down for sleep. As she walked over to the vanity to brush out her curls, she saw it- the tarnished necklace from earlier.
A gasp left her throat as she stumbled backwards, falling to the floor with a loud thud.
"How-"
A knock on her door cut her off.
"Hermione! Are you alright?" A concerned Lucius said.
"I'm fine. I just lost my balance is all!" she said back, the lie flowing easily.
"Do you need me to com-"
"I certainly do not!" she said before he could finish. "Just go back to your room."
"If you are cer-"
"Yes!"
She didn't pick herself up until she could no longer hear his footsteps.
She went to the vanity again and looked at the pendant.
"Why?" she whispered to it. "Why are you tormenting me?"
The necklace must have a dark sense of humour, Hermione later decided, because at that moment it seemed to wink at her. Well, as much as a necklace could wink, that is.
"No matter then, I have the perfect place for you," Hermione muttered to herself, picking up the necklace and taking measured steps toward the balcony at the other end of the room. Throwing open the door, she tossed the pendent as far as she possibly could. She watched in satisfaction as it disappeared into the inky night.
Only moments later, it came flying back, travelling so quickly she could hear it whistling through the air.
"Wha-," but she never had the opportunity to finish, as the necklace smacked into her chest and fell beside her feet.
She grumbled and tried to dispose of it again and again, but each and every time it managed to find its way back to her. Eventually, she gave up for the night and fell into an uneasy slumber.
Over the next few days in Malfoy Manor, Hermione would try her best to rid herself of the accursed object, but to no avail. It was when the necklace appeared in the library while she was with Voldemort that she decided she had enough. She marched back to her rooms, muttering an excuse to his Lordship, and flung the pendent on the bed.
"I don't want to put you on," she said to the necklace as she stood by the foot of the bed, her arms crossed, stubbornly. "I will not put you on," she continued. "I don't know what you are or what you do! Putting you on would be irresponsible!"
She laughed then, doubling over and clutching her stomach, realising just how mad she sounded. She was standing at the foot of a bad, talking to a necklace of all things. The laughter stopped suddenly as she began thinking. She couldn't put the necklace on, no, that wouldn't be safe, not while she didn't know what it was, but she also couldn't get rid of it.
She paced the room, running through idea after idea, but not thinking of one she was satisfied with. She could always keep the necklace in her pocket, but there was no guarantee that it would stay there, and she didn't want any more incidents like today. Her beaded bag would have to do, she decided. There was no better way to keep it. She would just need to be hypervigilant in ensuring that it stayed in the bag.
The following days, she kept an eye out for the necklace, but it seemed to stay put in her bag as if sensing that she wasn't trying to rid herself of it any longer.
Amélie had left only three days ago, and thankfully, it was also time for Hermione to return to France for the rest of the summer holiday. She bid farewell to Voldemort, who instructed her to continue her studies in the Dark Arts, which he would continue to mentor her in when she returned over the winter holidays. After speaking with him, Hermione made her way to the Floo where Lucius and her parents were waiting to leave.
"Dearest cousin, you must write to me more often. You have seen for yourself the boorish intellect of the people I call friends."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but let an amused smile play about her lips. "Yes, of course, Lucius, I wouldn't want your ego to become too inflated with all the fawning your 'friends' lavish you with."
"I shall eagerly await your next visit," she said, bowing to an absurd degree, extending his hand outwards with a flourish.
She placed her hand in his and curtsied just as low. "Of course you shall, I would expect no less," she replied in the snootiest tone she could manage.
He smirked. "I was rather serious about writing to me, cousin, I would like to hear from you more often."
She promised and stepped through the floo, waving to him as the green flames consumed her.
{Web of Wyrd}
Hermione lived up to her promise, writing to Lucius at least three times every day, much to his consternation. She giggled just thinking about it. After she got back from the Manor, her summer holidays had been much less stressful, and they passed quickly. It was already two weeks until the next term began at Beauxbatons, and Hermione couldn't help but be excited to start school again.
She was also anxious to see Mathis. She wanted to ask him about the death of his father more. The more that Hermione contemplated it and the events surrounding it, the less she suspected Voldemort was behind it; it was, however, replaced with an ever-growing sense that something else had a part to play in the murder.
Hermione didn't have much to do today, although she did get a package from the school assigning her a task for the opening ceremony this year. She was to be a baton twirler, and enclosed in the package was her baton, already charmed, and a magical book, depicting the routine she would need to have perfected by the start of term. She groaned when she saw it. She would much rather be doing something that didn't involve her performing in any way.
She got to work, practising the routine over and over again, stopping only to refresh herself. Around noon, a few hours later, an owl began tapping at her window. Hermione's face lit up when she saw it- rusty brown feathers and a white face- it was Louis bird, Marquis.
"Bonjour, Marquis," she said, brushing her fingers lightly over his feathers before grabbing a treat for him. "Thank you for delivering this."
He hooted softly.
"I suppose you are waiting for a reply?"
He hooted again.
She nodded and opened the letter.
Dear Hermione,
I have rather troubling news I think you must hear. Are you available at 3:30 for tea? Sorry for the short notice, I only found out this morning. If you are available, let's meet at my Manor.
Sincerely Yours,
Louis Delacour
She frowned. She was going to try and find Marielle's library again this afternoon, as a reward for training earlier today. But it sounded like it was an emergency, so…
She penned a quick reply and gave the note to Marquis who hooted a goodbye and flew out the still open window.
Hermione couldn't help but wonder what might cause such a brief and worrisome message from Louis. Something horrific had to be happening, or else he would have planned something for at least a week later. He wasn't a very spontaneous person and this seemed very out of his character.
At precisely 3:30 Hermione flooed to Delacour Manor, where Louis was anxiously pacing in front of the fireplace.
"Excellent, you have arrived. Let's go to the parlour," he said, forgoing all proper greetings, opting instead to lead her down the corridor into a powder-blue room, where tea was already set.
"Explain," Hermione said, getting straight to the point once they had sat down.
He clenched his hands together, rubbing them anxiously. "You remember last year when Monsieur Lanchance was killed?"
She grimaced and nodded. How could she forget?
"The International Federation of Wizards has found evidence that his death is one in a chain of many murders."
Hermione went cold. "There have been more?"
He nodded, "I'm afraid so."
"How," she asked.
"That's the strange thing- there hasn't been any indication of anything, not even the killing curse. There seems to be no intent behind the murders either, they just seem to be happening," he explained, looking out the window, watching something only he could see. "It's as if- as if magic is trying to punish us," he finally said, meeting her gaze again.
Hermione frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would magic be punishing magicals?"
Louis shrugged. "I don't know. But there is another thing you should know…"
Hermione tensed. "Continue."
"This has been happening for the past 100 years. Whoever or whatever is doing this has been at it for a while."
"That can't be possible!" Hermione said as she slammed her hands on the table causing the porcelain china to rattle a bit.
"I've found that anything seems to be possible with magic," he said, strangely, sending her a pointed look.
She glared back. "There has to be another explanation," she insisted.
"We both know there is not."
She growled and threw the chair back in favour of pacing the room.
"I cannot do this anymore, Louis! I don't understand why I was chosen."
He stayed silent.
"I already dealt with a war in my original time, and now I am fighting it again, but everything keeps getting more and more complicated! This isn't just about Voldemort anymore; it isn't just about saving my friends anymore. The entire safety of the magical world as we know it as resting on my shoulders and I cannot do it anymore!" she cried hysterically, tears dripping down her face.
"You have to!" he said, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "It isn't fair; nothing is, but you have to do this. You are the only one who can."
"I know," she said bitterly, interrupting him. "I already know that."
"But you do not have to do it alone! Let me help you! Let Apolline help you! Let the Lemerciers help you! Let us in, Hermione!" he shouted.
She shook her head, "No, Louis, the path I am on is a lonely one, and I cannot let you follow me."
He started at her in disbelief, hurt lacing his expression.
She shook his hands off her shoulders. "Thank you for the information, I should be leaving now."
He stared at the spot she vacated long after she left it.
"She is so dense sometimes," he said, shaking his head."So dense."
{Web of Wyrd}
When Hermione returned to the Lemercier Manor, she stomped back to her chambers and prepared her beaded bag for a trip through the mountains to search for Marielle's Library so she could conduct some research on the strange necklace that she couldn't get rid of (despite her trying with all her might). She had already asked Aria about the rune, but the faerie was drawing blanks as well, though she did suggest going to visit Marielle in person. For a reason Hermione couldn't explain, she felt as though telling Marielle about the necklace would be a bad idea, so she only smiled non-committedly to the faerie and continued to pack her bag.
She finished and ventured off to tell Irène that she would be gone for the rest of the week and that she could expect to see Hermione again Sunday evening in time for supper.
"Absolutely not," Irène said.
Hermione stared at the woman.
"You are not going to go into the woods, looking for a library, alone, might I add, and then not come home for the rest of the week."
Hermione shook her head, "I appreciate your concern, but this is of the utmost importance and I must go there.
Irène just shook her head. "No. You will not be leaving this manor."
"Please, be reasonable. This is very important," Hermione tried again.
The woman sighed. "Hermione, I know you are in a very precarious and stressful situation right now, but I feel as though you may be burning bridges that could save you down the road."
Hermione tensed and looked at her with accusing eyes. "Louis contacted you, didn't he?"
"He did not," she replied, raising an eyebrow, "I only noticed that you seemed especially testy since coming back from my brother's manor."
Hermione glared at the woman. "This isn't important right now. I really need to leave for the rest of the week."
Irène's eyes softened as she pulled the girl into a hug. "I know, but darling, you need to let others support you more than ever. Let us help."
Hermione wrenched herself from the older woman's grip. "I shall see you Saturday evening, then."
Irène knew she was fighting a losing battle and allowed the girl to leave in a rush, a small tear running down her cheek.
Laurent stepped out of the shadows and wrapped his arms around his wife in a snug embrace.
"Though she is an adult, she still reminds me so much of a child," he sighed, pecking her temple.
{Web of Wyrd}
Hello all, I am terribly sorry that I have neglected to post for awhile, I have been rather preoccupied with uni. Luckily, I have been managing to squeeze in a few minutes of writing each week, and after months of this, I can finally present to you all the next chapter of Wishing Upon a Golden Glow. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. In the next one Hermione will be returning to school. I won't make any promises as to when that will be posted, but I will try to have it up within the next month. I hope everyone has an excellent 2020!
Sincerely,
Miss of the Manor