THE TRIQUETRA EFFECT
To say that Hermione could not sleep the rest of that night was an understatement.
When she and Ron got back to the common room, flushed-face with excitement, they couldn't help but talk in hushed whispers by the fire about the tomb and the Founder's Gift they had found. After a great debate (which a plea for Arresto had to be made), they had decided to keep the Gift where it was, as they believed it would be safest kept in that tomb. They would tell Harry and Dumbledore about it the first chance they could get.
But the fact they'd found Hufflepuff's tomb...and the gift nonetheless, was just…
Phenomenal.
Of course, she didn't forget the fact that she had seen footprints in the dusty room. Which meant someone had been there recently. Her first guess was Moony, as they knew that he'd had the gift last. But in the memory Harry saw, Professor Dumbledore told Moony to give it to "him" for safekeeping.
Which left them back at square one. And so the postulating continued...
Their throats became almost sore from all the talking (both from before the tomb was discovered and after). It wasn't until people came into the common room, that Hermione and Ron paused their frenzied whispers and looked at the clock.
Apparently, it was morning, breakfast was in an hour, and they would definitely not be getting any more sleep.
Hermione got ready for the day quickly before going back down to Ron and accompanying him to breakfast, their two Auror guards following them the whole way.
It looks like it is Dawlish today, she noted with displeasure. And Ron's is Savage.
Being followed everywhere she went was really growing tiresome. She had hoped for a female Auror to make things a little less awkward when she had to use the loo (Dawlish so far had to make sure the bathroom stalls were all cleared first before letting her in, and then standing outside the bathroom door to prevent anyone else from going in), but apparently the Auror department hadn't accepted any new recruits in years. That, plus female Aurors were much harder to come by.
I miss Tonks. Please let her be okay, please, please…
Worry for her friend and guard clenched around her tightly, and she knew she wouldn't be able to eat.
If I ever become Minister, I'm going to change the whole setup, she thought furiously as she and Ron entered the Great Hall. Witches shouldn't be afraid to become Aurors. The government shouldn't be so narcissistic that they think nobody new is good enough for them. And I certainly wouldn't let those two brutes loose in a castle of students.
Dawlish and Savage remained at the posts at the door, watching over all, and scaring everyone. She remembered what they did last year, arresting Hagrid and hurting poor McGonagall, amongst other things. The Headmaster must've had a conniption when he found out they were back.
And then she and Ron were sitting down, and she was brought back to the present once more.
All throughout breakfast, she and Ron continued their theorizing about the Founders' Heirs. They could be seen with their heads together, whispering conspiratorily about who the Hufflepuff Heir could be, and whether they knew of the tomb's existence.
However, Hermione was all too aware of the forlorn looks she was getting from Lavender's direction.
"It looks like somebody wants to spend some time with you," she told Ron with a gesture, when a lull appeared in their postulating.
He glanced over at Lavender, whose eyes were red as she sniffled into her porridge.
Nodding glumly, he said, "Yeah. I need to go see what's wrong with her."
An owl alighted in front of them just then, a scroll attached to its leg. Ron petted it as Hermione read the letter within. It was from Viktor, his dark calligraphy sprawling across the parchment, asking her to meet him at the Astronomy Tower after breakfast.
Hermione bit her lip, trying to decide. She had an hour before the D.A. meeting in the Great Hall, but she just didn't want to hang out with Viktor right now. But nor could she think of a good excuse not to. Besides...if she was going to break things off with him, might as well do it like a bandage and just rip it off.
Hurriedly, she wrote her answer on the back of the parchment and tied it back onto the owl's leg.
They went back to their conversation as the owl took off, but Hermione was no longer in the mood.
"I'm finished eating anyway, Ron, if you want to go spend time with her. I've been hogging you all morning and all yesterday just about. It isn't fair to her, being your girlfriend and all."
"Oh," Ron said, crestfallen. "But I was hoping we could both go up to the hospital wing and see Harry and Ginny be discharged…"
"You two should go on without me. I need to go talk to someone anyway. I'm sorry, Ron, I really do like your theory though, about Luna. Oh, and don't forget to meet me and Harry in the library after the D.A. meeting!"
She left him then, but couldn't get his kicked-puppy-dog look out of her mind as she left the table. The vindictive side of her wanted to sneer at him and tell him it was his own fault for going out with Lavender when he could have had Hermione ever since the Yule Ball two years ago.
"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"
It wasn't like she had gone out with anyone last year too. She and Viktor had only written each other as friends. Ron's chances of asking her to go out with him were ripe then as well. And yet all year long...nothing.
"Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon, doesn't mean we all have…"
But her nasty remark from last year burned in her mind, and she immediately crushed that vindictive side, reprimanding herself for being cruel.
It was her own fault for asking Viktor to go out with her instead of Ron.
Hermione ascended the last stair to the Astronomy Tower with trepidation. Her thoughts to Ron the night before about Viktor resurfaced in her mind, and she wondered again if she should break up with him.
He stood, staring out at the vast landscape, not looking at her. Hermione crossed the observation deck, rounding the large metal statue of the sun and its surrounding orbits, and went to stand by him.
Long dark hair falling over his forehead, Hermione could not see his eyes from her perch. He didn't speak, though, and she felt as if she shouldn't too.
They both stared out over the mountains and forested lands together.
It was cold in the open, airy tower, however, and Hermione shivered from the breeze. She wasn't wearing a long traveling cloak as he was, and she felt much younger than her own seventeen years standing next to him in her Muggle jeans and white sweater. She rested a hand on the large, golden telescope beside her, fingering the cold bronze metal in an idling sort of way.
Her thoughts traveled to Ron and Lavender, still probably down in the Great Hall and eating to their hearts' content. No...not eating. They would be snogging, of course. Ron would've tried to cheer her up. Lavender would have been all too willing.
She shook them out of her thoughts.
The whistling wind rushed about them, making Viktor's cape lift in the air.
"Viktor...I need to tell you something…" she whispered quietly.
"No," he said turning to her. "Don't."
Then his lips were suddenly on hers in a swift movement she hadn't anticipated—she drew in an intake in surprise, but it was quickly muffled—his hands were in her hair, holding her neck, bringing her body up to match his in force and soon she was lost in what he was doing to her.
At first, she started pulling away, so she could talk to him. But he was too passionate. Too forceful. Like he knew that it was coming to an end and was trying to stop it.
And Hermione wondered if he knew what she was going to tell him, and this was his way of shutting her up. Perhaps he just wanted to put it off and have one more good day with her.
It was all she wanted too.
She gave in.
And all too soon it was time for their D.A. lesson in the Great Hall.
Hermione was far too distracted to be of any good help, however. Her Patronus wasn't near strong enough, and she kept glancing over at Ron as he taught several third years the different shield charms.
She felt guilty for her snogging session with Viktor, despite the fact that they had been somewhere private and he was her boyfriend. Really, she had chickened out. She was going to break up with him, but was too cowardly to follow through. Why did this keep happening to her when it came to him? Why was she so afraid in committing to the next step and making herself available, yet again, for Ron?
What if Ron didn't even want her?
What if he just laughed at her advances?
What if he started hating her again?
But as she watched him across the room, showing little Laurel Dippet on the proper wand movements, Hermione was very sure of at least one thing.
She still wanted him.
When Harry had woken and heard of Ron saving him, Harry had hugged him. Ron told her about it as they came down the stairs for their D.A. meeting, and Hermione thought it only fitting. She had been so impressed with Ron, for not just remembering her lecture about bezoars but for thinking of it so quickly when Harry was convulsing. And to think fast enough to just summon it like that instead of going over and rifling through drawers and cabinets when Harry didn't have that kind of time…
He saved Harry's life.
Supposed to be concentrating on the spells zooming around in front of her, Hermione blanked out. Her thoughts—which had been trying so hard to stay busy all morning—wandered to the frightful events of the previous day.
The last she'd heard, poor Tonks was in a coma at St. Mungo's, and Charlie hadn't left her bedside all day. The cursed necklace had been taken care of, and there was a very strict investigation underway.
And Hermione was tormented beyond repair.
It was her fault that Tonks was cursed. If only Hermione had felt how Dark an object that package had contained...if only Hermione had realized how mechanic and wooden Ginny was…if only she'd seen that Ginny was Imperiused...
None of that would have happened.
It didn't matter if she was being "fair" about the situation or not. Every time Hermione looked at the problem with a logical eye, the blame was hers.
It was her fault that someone Imperiused Rosmerta into Imperiusing Ginny (the more steps this person took, the more anonymity they had) into giving Hermione the cursed necklace. It was her fault that Ginny was even involved in any of this at all. She never should have left Ginny alone in the loo. She should have checked the loo first before going back up the stairs to the others. She should have realized Ginny wasn't acting herself. She shouldn't have taken the package. And she definitely shouldn't have let Tonks touch the Dark object that was meant for Hermione.
Tonks wouldn't be in the hospital if it weren't for Hermione.
Ginny wouldn't have been cursed if it weren't for Hermione.
Rosmerta wouldn't have been cursed if it weren't for Hermione.
Besides the fact that whoever Imperiused both women in the loo would have saved themselves all that hassle if only they had caught Hermione alone in the ladies' room in the first place.
Her friends would have been saved. She would have touched the necklace and been cursed...or put it on and been strangled...either way, nobody else would have been hurt at all.
And Hermione couldn't forgive herself of the blame.
Her night had been filled with nightmares of everyone she knew and loved rising up in the air as Tonks had done, eyes open and silently screaming in agony and fright.
And that was how she had awoken too.
"Watch out!" snapped Blaise Zabini, next to her.
Hermione jumped back as a spell shot right by her, narrowly missing her chest.
"S-sorry," she stammered, backing away from the dueling space between him and Cormac McLaggen.
"Oh, nonsense, Zabini," said Cormac, grinning. "Granger just wants in on the fun, spreading her legs wide in-between two fine, strapping young men. We can hardly begrudge her curiosity."
"Shove off, Cormac!" Hermione growled, and stalked off, wiping the tears from her eyes. She didn't hear his parting remarks, but also did not care what he had to say.
Damn Head Boy.
Quitting the D.A. lesson early, Hermione strode out of it, not caring for the glances shot her way.
Instead, she found an early solace in the library. In her anger over Cormac's crude insinuations, Hermione slammed down the usual books and scrolls onto her table. Then sat down to wait for the D.A. lesson to end and for Harry and Ron to come up here too. Exhausted from catching just a few hours of sleep last night, Hermione fought the buzzing and dreariness in her head.
She looked down at the scrolls spread in front of her, tears pricking her eyes. How long she stared at the table in front of her, she didn't know. But she then heard movements coming her way, and she hurriedly wiped her eyes before plastering a fake smile for Ron and Harry as they came into view.
Although it wasn't yet lunch-time, the room was darkened by storm clouds and the drizzly weather when the two boys arrived. It cast an eerily dark glow on the proceedings, that was lit only by a single light above their quiet table in the corner by the windows.
At first she was rather worried that they would be overheard in their conversation. As luck would have it, Draco Malfoy was settled on a table mere yards from hers, and he kept glancing over at her while she worked, freaking her out. There were still a few N.E.W.T. years studying hard throughout the library, but none were close to Hermione's favorite table in the back. As well, she had her table spread out with books and scrolls and bits of old parchment. She held one in particular in her hand—Artificium Merlini.
"You okay?" Ron asked, concerned as he put a hand on the back of her chair.
Hermione nodded, glancing down. "Yes...just worried about Tonks."
The boys nodded glumly. "Me too."
Hermione took a deep breath and went to work.
"So over the past few months, I've taken to translating this book," she explained when Harry and Ron sat. "It's about Merlin and his life—I'm quite far into it, actually."
"Do we have to sit so close to him?" Harry muttered darkly, glancing at the Slytherin, who heard him and scowled.
Hermione cast a silencing charm around them for good measure.
"Where'd you get that?" said Ron, gesturing to the old tome.
"It was a birthday gift from Moony and Dumbledore—"
"Dumbledore? He never gave me a birthday present," said Harry, disgruntled.
"He did too, that Cloak in first year—"
"That doesn't count, it was my dad's, Ron. And besides, that was Christmas—"
"If you two would listen?" said Hermione, clearing her throat significantly. "Now, I wanted you here to tell you—"
"So what's this about the riddle?" said Ginny, coming over to them. Neville was with her. They came within the confinements of the silencing charm and sat down. "We couldn't help but overhear in Hogsmeade."
The smug smile on her face told Hermione that yes, Ginny could very well help overhearing.
Luna came over from behind a tower of books. She plunked them down on the table and sat with them. "What are you learning about?" she asked in her musically nasal voice.
"Merlin," said Harry and Ron together.
Hermione explained it all hastily to Ginny, Neville, and Luna.
"Join us, if you'd like," she added, then continued. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you what I've found out about Merlin. The book starts out describing his childhood and—get this—he was the son of Hestia Hesperus."
"Who?" said Neville.
"She married Godric Gryffindor," explained Ginny.
"Wait, what?" Ron blurted out. "Back up. If he was the son of Gryffindor and Hesperus, then how in Merlin's name could...er...Merlin have taught Gryffindor and them how to be witches and wizards?"
"I didn't say he was the son of Gryffindor. He wasn't," Hermione stated with a knowing smile. "Hestia Hesperus had a child with another man before Gryffindor married her. This child was Merlin...only he was called Emrys back then. He was a baby when his father was killed, and about seven or so when his mother remarried."
"That still doesn't explain about him teaching them," said Ron stubbornly.
"The wizard Merlin invented the clock-hopper," said Luna, her protuberant eyes looking at Ron. "It makes you hop to anywhere you wish, and to any time you wish. That's how."
Ron snorted.
Hermione, however, grinned. "She's quite right, you know. Only, we call it time-travel."
Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna all looked up at her and waited for her to continue. She indulged them.
"I knew this, that Merlin was the first person ever to time-travel, but I simply didn't put two and two together until I read this book. He grew up the eldest child of all the Founders, but he technically wasn't a part of them. When he grew to be of age, he went traveling and learned more and collected many things and became an inventor. Nobody knows for sure, but that must be how he made the first Time-Turners.
"He was middle-aged when he first went back in time. After that, he skipped many lifetimes and because of it, his body reacted differently to aging. He really was only in his sixties when he met the Muggle boy, Arthur, but he looked to be one hundred sixty. After he became famous for that, he knew it was time to make sure that Hogwarts was started—he'd been to the future, see, and knew this had to happen. As well, he must have known that the old wizard the Founders told him about must have been him—nobody knows how, really. Whatever the matter, he went back in time for the last time.
"It says it all, right here—" she continued, paging through her book until she found the right spot. "'In his time, he often traveled far and wide, seeking the four to succeed him. It wasn't until the land had fallen into a lost and unbelieving state that he found them: one from the southern moors, one from the northern glens, one from the western valleys, and one from the eastern fens. With those promising four, he took them in and began to teach them all that he knew so that one day, they too would—'"
"I get it now!" said Neville. "Merlin went back in time to when he knew the Founders would be of age, then when he went looking for wizards and witches to teach, he knew exactly who he had to find!"
"Precisely! I bet he knew basically where to find them, because he remembered from their stories to him when he was younger where they were born. According to the riddle and the book, he found Godric Gryffindor first, in the southern moors of the West Country. Ravenclaw was next, from the northern glens of Scotland; then Helga Hufflepuff from Wales, as we already know; and then of course, Slytherin from somewhere in the east of England."
"Figures we'd have to have Slytherin be from our homeland," Ron muttered.
The others shushed him.
"We all know what happened next—he taught them for a few years until they were of age, then he sent them off on a quest to test themselves. Of course, knowing Merlin, he could have sent them through time, or to another country, or to another world entirely. Nobody knows. But that's when it happened."
"What happened?" said Luna, entranced.
"As the story goes, a witch came to him with a secret—a very grave secret. She was in danger because of the information she possessed. This secret that she carried was wanted, for evil forces were coming to take it. She said it would be greatly desired for many centuries to come, and he had to protect it at all costs."
"Well, what was it?" said Harry.
"The book didn't say," said Hermione, disappointed. "But Merlin took this secret and bound the great magic it possessed so it wouldn't be found. He guarded it with his life, but his life was almost over, for when the Founders came back, they had the spouses, and of course they had Emrys—his younger self."
"Ohhh," said Harry, understanding. The others though—who hadn't gone time-traveling as Harry and Hermione had—were still in the dark.
Hermione enlightened them.
"Now something you must realize," she continued, "Is that with time-travel, there can never be more than one version of you for more than a few hours at a time. When I used the Time-Turner all third year, I could only go back a few hours, and there couldn't be more than two of me. If I had gone back again and again to a certain time so there would be numerous versions of myself...I simply wouldn't exist today."
They blinked up at her.
"Wait, you went back in time in third ye—"
"So in the past. You need to catch up, Neville," said Ron.
"You remember what it was like, Harry," Hermione said. "We had to make sure we couldn't see ourselves, and we had to let time catch up with us. That's another rule—you can never go forward in time, as it isn't a set place. Things are changing all the time—the future is in a constant state of flux."
"But you said that Merlin went forward in time," said a voice behind them all.
It was just Meghan Freeman however. She was hovering beside some bookcases. She grew a bit shy at all the attention, but continued. "Before, remember? Then just now you said you can't. Well, it can't be both."
"You can hear us?" Hermione asked, puzzled. What happened to my silencing charm...
"Meghan Freeman, right?" said Hermione, then continued when the girl nodded. "You see, Merlin was the only known wizard to ever go forward in time. He did not know until much later how wrong it was—it was doing things to his body that wouldn't have been done if he simply went backwards in time, and then let the present catch up with him. It was because of this that he began to age rather quickly. Afterwards, of course, he destroyed all evidence and instruments he probably used to go forwards in time. To this day, there have been several inventors trying to recapture what he discovered back then, but the none of them have succeeded. Our own Ministry of Magic has put a ban on it since then, as it is far too dangerous. You're very astute, Meghan, for noticing that. Would you like to join us too?"
Ron opened his mouth to object, but Ginny kicked him. Neville at once got up to pull a chair out for Meghan and she sat down, pleased. Neville reddened. Hermione took note of the exchange.
"It was seeing his younger self that Merlin knew he didn't have much time. He had just a few more tasks to do, and they had to be done quickly, or either his older self or younger self was going to die," said Hermione. "He needed a successor to guard this great magic that had been given to him. Obviously, he couldn't make Emrys, his younger self, his successor, because that had never happened before, in the past. So he gave this great secret to the four Founders to guard with their lives. He charged them to protect this secret until death, and after that to appoint new guardians to keep guard over the secret from their own descendants.
"To help guard this grand magic, he crafted for them weapons. This is how the sword, the cup, the diadem, and the locket came about. Within each weapon, he placed a complex enchantment and curse. He gave the four Founders these four magical objects to use and pass down their lines to help fight and draw off all adversaries searching for the great magic. The Founders, likewise, all took an oath that they and all their descendants would protect and guard the secret—of which the most terrible of all curses should befall them if they tried to use this magic for themselves—"
Hermione stopped. An eerie feeling grew in her chest, and her heart quickened.
Am I forgetting something?
"Is there more to the story?" said Neville.
It's probably nothing. Just ignore it.
"Erm...yes..." Hermione answered, drawing back to the present. "It was shortly after this that Merlin went back to the place where he bound the magic up. He died there—his tomb is said to be there still. And the secret was placed somewhere here at Hogwarts. The Founders, who became the guardians of this secret, began their school of magic and proceeded to build on to the castle. But they guarded the secret as promised, even though they hadn't been told what made this secret so terrible. It doesn't particularly say, but I believe that this secret, because it held a great magic, put a lot of itself into the castle, making it very strong and powerful. This would explain why Voldemort is so intent on capturing it.
"Anyway, the story fast-forwards a couple of decades. There had been a rift growing between Slytherin and the other three for quite some time. Mostly, it was between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and it had a lot to do with this secret. Muggles were attacking witches and wizards everywhere, see, and Slytherin didn't know why they had to keep guarding the secret and why they couldn't unleash the magic onto the Muggles. He wanted it for himself, he wanted to know what all the secrecy was, and he decided to do everything in his power to find out. This eventually lead to the Hogwarts Battle."
Hermione's eyes were gleaming in the light from excitement. She got up and started pacing. She had finally discovered how it all began, through use of this book.
"To make a long story short, while the battle was taking place, Slytherin snuck into the castle and stole the secret from its protected spot. He acted out on his own ambition and greediness. The only place the magic could be unbound was where it was bound in the first place—where Merlin's tomb was. Again, we don't know where Slytherin went to, just that it was somewhere close by because he reached it that night; they didn't have brooms or Apparition then. Somehow, he found out how to unbind the magic, and the secret was unleashed. Because of this, Merlin was awoken in his tomb."
"What?"
"How?"
"I thought you couldn't wake up the dead—"
"You can't," she said, quelling their outburst. "Personally, I think this just means that his ghost had been haunting there all along. Or maybe he was turned into an Inferius. Whatever the matter, because of the curse on the locket, Slytherin was punished and his seed was cursed to be overpowered by their ambitions and greed."
"Well, that explains a lot!" Ron exclaimed. "No wonder the Slytherins're all bastards! It's in their blood!"
Someone muttered vengefully.
"Yes, that's all very well. Again, Merlin bound the magic and the secret and sent it back to the other Founders. The faithful three received it, Slytherin died, and they gave Slytherin's weapon to one of his sons to guard it, as it had to be given down his line, no matter what he did. I think the good son, Alexander, got it next.
"And so, the years passed. The gifts went down the line and the secret was kept guarded. But over the years each generation forgot more and more. The gifts were traded, stolen, sold, and the guardians lost the special magic they were given to protect that powerful secret. Because the gifts were lost over time, the knowledge of the heirs and their magic was also lost. The secret and the magic within was bound and could not be regained."
Hermione took a breath, and smiled, finished with her tale. "And to this day, nobody knows where Merlin's tomb is."
"Wow," said Ron.
"Some story," said Harry. "Are there any other books on this? On where Merlin's tomb might be?"
"There are many theories. But they're only that—theories. Imagine finding it, though! That tomb must have loads of magic in it—maybe Merlin took some special things with him to the grave—books and instruments—!" Hermione was excited.
"Bet it's in England somewhere," said Ron. "The stories about Merlin are always in England."
"No, Wales," corrected Ginny. "English historians stole Welsh history and made it our own. So I bet it's in Wales."
"It could be somewhere foreign. Like America, or Germany, or somewhere," Neville threw in.
"It can't be any of those!" said Meghan Freeman haughtily. "Granger said it didn't take him long to get there! That means it must be somewhere within Hogwarts, or the Forbidden Forest, or Hogsmeade!"
"Or the cemetery!" Neville breathed. "Remember where Professor Jones took the sixth-years? That cemetery! I bet he's in there somewhere!"
"Can't be…" Harry mused. "We didn't see any headstones with his name on them. Plus everyone would know if he was there."
"So...assuming Hermione's story is true, then it matches up with the Sorting Hat's riddle quite well," said Ginny, thinking. "He gave them the gifts before he died...but it wasn't just because he liked them. It was because he was charging them with a task."
"A task!" Harry exclaimed.
They all looked at him.
He turned pink at his mimicry, then explained about seeing Dobby in the kitchens during one of Ron and Hermione's quarrels, and what Dobby had then told him to do.
"And I'm still lost. I still don't get what any of this has to do with us," said Ron. "Even Dobby told us that the Sorting Hat had given Harry a 'mission' to find them."
"This has everything to do with us!" said Hermione earnestly. "Look around you! At this table alone, we have four Gryffindors, a Gryffindor that's as good as any Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw, and a Slytherin! That's exactly what the Sorting Hat told us at the start of this year's term— 'I've told you once, and now you must take heed on my advice...if you don't join together, you must pay a greater price'! Don't you see? If we don't do something about the rift in Hogwarts, there's going to be a terrible battle here. And instead of it being a united Hogwarts against Voldemort's followers, then half of the Hogwarts students are going to go join them and we wouldn't stand a chance! It's important that we learn this stuff so this doesn't happen—it's important that everyone does!"
There was an unbroken silence as they digested her words.
"She's right," said Harry. "We need to learn everything we can about this stuff. If it will stop Voldemort...it's worth it. It all is."
"Learn...what?" said Neville.
"About the gifts," said Hermione. "And their magic. They're at the heart of everything. If you truly want me to tell you, then I will. But if not..."
None of them moved. She heard footsteps down the next aisle, but assumed it was Madam Pince. The candlelight flickered on Hermione's face as she gave them a rather mysterious smile.
"All right, then. You all remember what the Sorting Hat's riddle at the start of term was about, don't you? In a nutshell, it told us that each of the Founders were married, that an old wizard taught the Founders and started Hogwarts, then disappeared, but not before leaving them gifts—he gave Gryffindor a sword, Hufflepuff a goblet, Slytherin a locket, and Ravenclaw a diadem. Then when you went back later, Harry, the Hat told you that the wizard was Merlin. It also said that it mentioned the spouses for a purpose that we need to figure out, and the heirs of the Founders are alive today, as are the Gifts.
"Now, we know that Dumbledore has the sword, which we think means he's the Heir of Gryffindor. We know that there is a possibility for Luna to be an heir, considering…" she trailed off.
Eyes wide, they all nodded (including Luna) showing that they'd all thought it since the lightning strike.
"And of course, since Professor Jones' real name is Hestia Jones Hesperus, it is very possible that she could be an heir too and was named after Gryffindor's wife!" she continued. "I've researched the other Gifts, and I couldn't find anything about a locket or diadem...but in Professor Jones' class the other day, she mentioned a cup. Do you remember? She said it belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, and that's the reason Tom Riddle wanted it. Probably wants to use it to get Hogwarts back from Dumbledore. Now, Hepzibah Smith was the last owner of the cup, and when Riddle killed her, he went to get the cup, but it was gone—"
"And that's when Zacharias Smith started boasting about how she entrusted it to his family because they were her favorites, and all that rot," said Ron bitterly. "Nasty bloke couldn't get a bigger head."
"Right," said Hermione. She twiddled with her necklace, thinking. "So that makes the Smiths known descendants of Helga Hufflepuff. And in that memory of Dumbledore's that you saw, Harry, probably means Lupin was giving it back to the Smiths. And of course Ron and I saw it—"
She stopped.
Ron was gesturing at her to shut up.
And she realized all too late that she'd spilled the beans.
"You saw it?" said Neville, white-faced.
"In a picture. Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. We saw it in a picture in a book I found. So we know what it looks like," she hastily covered up.
The others appeared satisfied by that, although Neville still looked distraught.
"Anyway, so the Smiths probably have the cup now. That leaves two of the Gifts and two of the Heirs accounted for. Now, as for the locket, I haven't heard anything about it, but—"
"What about that necklace? You know...the cursed one…"
Hermione bit her lip.
"It...could have been…" said Harry slowly. "Though that wasn't exactly a locket."
"Definitely wouldn't want to touch that thing," Ron agreed.
They all shivered.
"Wait, locket?" Ginny furrowed her brow. "Locket...locket, locket..."
"Sounds like 'lock it', now," said Ron.
"That's it!" Ginny exclaimed, standing up. "I know of a locket! In fact, we all do! Well, maybe not Neville, Luna, and Freeman. But don't you other three remember? We were at Grimmauld Place, and we were cleaning out the drawing room. There were doxies, a music box that made us all sleepy, and a—"
"Locket!" said Hermione, Harry, and Ron at once.
That's where I remember the locket from, Hermione mused. I knew it was familiar...how could I forget...
"Exactly! Remember? It was silver, it was rather big and heavy, had the thick chain of a pocket-watch...and it had the letter 'S' on it. A snake in the form of an 'S'. I remember that part because we couldn't open it and I looked at the snake and thought maybe you had to speak Parseltongue for it to open, but that's when the music box was brought out and I forgot to ask Harry to say something snake-ish for us..." said Ginny.
"Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth," said Luna unexpectedly. "He was a Snortbottom-tamer as well, you know, which is why his mother liked him so much. But I do think him being a Parselmouth had something to do with the locket Merlin gave him. And his House symbol being a snake."
Harry blinked. "I think you're right, Luna."
Hermione, meanwhile, was looking through her book, and not paying attention. "Ah, I've got it! Here—"
She opened to a page with illustrations and showed them. The sword looked just like the one in Dumbledore's office, the locket looked just as Ginny described it, the cup looked exactly as Hermione saw it, but the drawing of the diadem looked only vaguely familiar to Hermione.
"So Dumbledore has the sword, the Smith family has the goblet, and the locket is still probably at Grimmauld Place!" Hermione summarized. "And they all have a special magic placed on them."
"Wait, what?" Harry said. "When I held Gryffindor's sword to defeat the basilisk in second year, it didn't do any magic for me."
"It wouldn't," she said. She sat up, beaming once more. "There's this special spell complex that was put on all the weapons, like I said. That's what makes them so special—no one has seen their like since. They only work when they are with the heirs they were given to. They don't work for anyone else. As well, they give the wielder a power separate than what they possess." She lowered her voice. "The thing about the gifts is that they all have what they call the Triquetra Effect."
Hermione looked around at them all—they were entranced by her story, and the dark library was lit only where they sat. She heard a noise in the next row of bookcases, but paid it no mind.
The silence after her words was broken by Ron. "The Tri-what-now Effect?"
"The Triquetra Effect. It's like..." Hermione paused, searching for a way to explain it to them. "All right, do any of you know how wizards are different than Muggles?"
"Simple," said Harry, "Magic."
"Yes...but there's something else. See, wizards have three major things that make them who they are—their souls, their magic, and their bodies...or 'might' as this book calls them. Muggles have the bodies and the souls, but instead of magic, they have something else. The rule applies for Muggles and wizardkind both—a person cannot exist with only two of these things. They would try to function for a little while, but ultimately, they would die. Haven't you ever wondered why all the people who get a dementor's kiss die sometime within a year afterward? It's because their bodies and magic can't function without the soul. The same applies for the other two—if our bodies stop working, our souls and our magic are separated. If our magic stops working, our bodies and spirits stop functioning. It's really rather scary."
"No shite!" said Ron, aghast.
"Don't swear," Hermione said automatically.
"Wait, what about Squibs?" Neville asked. "And Muggleborns?"
"Well, contrary to popular belief, Squibs do have magic—it's just latent and can't be tapped into. And there's this gene that Muggles have that manifests in their lines every once in a while, so that one or more of their children—like the Creevey boys—are born with magic instead.
"But that is what the Triquetra Effect is: three things that rely on each other in order to work. And according to this book, something rather akin to it was placed on the gifts. They work three different ways: one part of its magic goes to the rightful heir and bearer; one part goes to the gift for its own use; and the third part can only be accessed when the heir and the Gift are together and combine their magic."
"Still lost, here," said Neville.
Ginny turned to him. "I think she means to say that each gift has its own body, soul, and magic, only all three of these are a form of magic. They can't function without the other, which means that if there is a gift that doesn't have an heir it belongs to, it simply wouldn't be magical at all."
"Close," said Hermione. "It would still have magic, it would just be bound and couldn't manifest itself in a true form. Let me think of an example...
"All right, let's say the Lovegoods are the most direct descendants of...Ravenclaw. That makes Luna the Ravenclaw Heir. But there can be more than one heir at a time, see. Her mother or father would be an heir, maybe any cousins or siblings she's got, any relatives, any distant relatives, etc. But the none of them have any special magic. Neither do they know that they could, as the diadem is somewhere hidden and they've never seen it before."
"So...if Luna found the diadem, then it would make her the true heir, whereas if her father found it, then he would be it?" said Harry.
"Exactly! Whoever does become joined with the diadem, or gift, would be called the Honorary Heir. I suppose it really depends on which of them found the diadem first, but many people think otherwise. In my book, it says that some people believe that the diadem chooses the heir—quite like how the wand chooses the witch or wizard. That maybe it...calls them to it and makes them pick it up. Which means that no matter how pure your line is, someone who is barely a descendant might be 'picked' over someone who is descended directly through the ones this gift has picked before. Nobody really knows, see.
"But there is something that everyone agrees on—there can only be one Honorary Heir at a time. The diadem could not share its magic with Luna and her father at the same time. If they were both to become the Honorary Heirs, it would have to be one after the other. Then her father would need to unleash its magic first, and then if he were ever to become separated with it, their magic together wouldn't work any more," said Hermione. "Thus, Luna would be free to find the gift and unbind its magic once more at a later time. Do you understand?"
"Wait..." said Ron. "You're saying that Mr. Lovegood would be the...Honorary Heir...and then all of a sudden, not be anymore? Does that mean when they were separated that he just stopped touching it, and then poof? Wait, would he still have the magic the diadem gave him?"
"I don't think he has to be touching it all the time to still be the Honorary Heir," answered Hermione. "And as to your latter question: Yes. He would still have the magic. And the diadem would still have its own separate magic. But as it is still an inanimate object, it couldn't separately use its magic unless a person controlled it. You see, it...it's like a wand."
"A wand?" said Meghan Freeman.
"Yes. Wands have magic in them, but they can't say spells, or perform magic by themselves. They need someone to use them, as they are only instruments. But a witch or wizard who owns the wand can still perform magic without the wand. Before I came to Hogwarts, I did a number of magical feats even though I did not own a wand—this is called untamed magic." Hermione smiled, remembering. "In fact, once, I was in my father's library and wanted to read several books on the top shelf, but couldn't reach them. The next thing I knew, I had flown into the air, and my father found me an hour later settled quite comfortably on the top shelf, reading the books.
"But, erm, anyway...the same theory applies to the former Honorary Heirs. They still have that special magic inside of them—it wasn't taken away simply because they no longer had command over the gift. They just can't use the gift—or anything at all, as wands wouldn't do wild magic any good—to channel it. So if Mr. Lovegood was given pyrokinesis, say, then even after the diadem found another Honorary Heir, he would still be able to use that power. He might not be very good at it—setting the house on fire simply because he's angry, and whatnot—"
She stopped again. Her audience looked rather clueless, and she gave an exasperated sigh, struggling to help them understand.
"You lot remember our lesson on untamed magic, don't you?" she said. "It requires no wand or incantation to come out, like regular magic—wild and untamed magic is controlled purely by our emotions. Like nonverbal spells, only much wilder. It's incredibly difficult to harness and use, which is why Mr. Lovegood may never be able to use this magic. So...does that make sense?"
They nodded.
"All right, back to the example. One day after Mr. Lovegood accidentally loses the diadem, Luna happens across it. For decades it has just been in her attic, appearing to have no magic at all. She touches it, or maybe it senses her magic, or perhaps she has to eat it, or slip it on her foot, or prick her finger on it like those Muggle fairytales, we don't know. Whatever she does, the magic on the diadem becomes activated."
"So...what, it starts glowing in the dark or something?" said Ron.
"I suppose it might. I really don't know. Anyway, the magic in the diadem becomes unbound. It splits itself into three ways—to her, to itself, and to both of them. The next day, she discovers that this new magic she now has manifests as a...a...healing ability, say—"
Meghan Freeman dropped a book which clattered to the floor. The others shushed her.
"—she can now heal a wound simply by touching it. That is her magic. The day after that, she discovers that this diadem can do something by itself. It can—"
"—glow in the dark—"
"—it can glow in the dark. That is the diadem's magic. And the third only happens when she is using the diadem for something or another—let's say she's wearing it the next week and she uses her own magic, and then it suddenly starts talking. That would be the third magic which can only take form when they are together. The diadem couldn't talk if it was alone in her room, the diadem couldn't glow in the dark if she decided to bind the magic up again, and she couldn't use it to heal anyone after the diadem was given to another heir. Remember, I said before that she would have to find a way to channel her own magic. Although...seeing as how it is healing people, which can be rather dangerous, she might want to just leave it alone, or she might kill someone by accident."
It did not escape Hermione's notice how Meghan Freeman had stopped fidgeting, stopped moving, and stopped breathing. All of a sudden, she looked like a mooncalf caught in wandlight. No one else seemed to be concerned, however.
"So does this mean Gryffindor and them could all heal people?" Ron inquired.
"No...because the magic settles in different people, even if they're in the same line, so it manifests in different forms. So Rowena Ravenclaw's magic could have turned her into a Legilimens, as she was known for that. But then when she passed away and one of her daughters was made the Honorary Heir, that witch might have been given power over water, say. It's just different. So, you see, it's three things completely dependent upon each other in order to work," Hermione finished. "And that's the Triquetra Effect—"
Someone interrupted her, scathingly.
"And we all know that Pothead, Weasel, and the Mudblood are completely dependent on each other. They have to do everything together—Potter can't shine his own boots without the Mudblood having to lick them and Weasleby wiping the slime off them for him. And so they have formed their own Triquetra Effect!"
Draco Malfoy stepped out of the shadows. Hermione turned pink.
"You bloody arse, stop calling her that!" Ron snapped.
"How long've you been standing there?" said Harry, alarmed.
Hermione knew why. If Voldemort found out about this stuff...
"Long enough," Draco said, eyes glinting. "I've simply come to give Freeman a message. Snape wants you. In the hospital wing."
"All right," Meghan Freeman said. "Tell him I'm coming. I want to finish this first."
He rolled his eyes. "I know you're fond of me, Freeman, but I'm not your bloody owl. Go tell him yourself. And what are you doing with these tossers, anyhow? I should give you detention just for associating with them."
Malfoy came closer to them and leaned on the back of Hermione's chair, peering over her shoulder and reading the books she had spread before her. She could feel his breath on her neck.
"You can leave now, Malfoy," said Hermione, irritated. "We're having a private discussion that doesn't concern you."
"I'm not looking to be concerned," said Draco snidely. "I was just wondering what's so important that would make four Gryffindors, one Ravenclaw, one Hufflepuff, and one Slytherin all congregate at one table."
"There are no Hufflepuffs," said Hermione at once.
"Oh—so sorry—Longbottom's pathetic enough, I mistook him for one—now if you'll excuse me, I have a castle to patrol," he said arrogantly, then walked away.
Meghan Freeman narrowed her eyes at the retreating back, pulled out her wand, and sent a hex after him.
The seven of them all burst into laughter as a long red streak appeared on the seat of his robes. Malfoy, however, felt nothing and continued walking.
"That was great," said Ron to Meghan, warming up to her. "But what made you do it? He's in your House."
"That still doesn't mean he's any less of an arse," she said haughtily. "Besides, I'm a Slytherin. We hex whomever we please. Especially when someone makes fun of nice boys who act like perfect gentlemen and pull chairs out for ladies. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a patient."
She marched away, nose in the air. Hermione grinned, watching her go. Her smile broadened when she saw Neville was doing the same, a small smile stretching on his own pink face.
"So about that story of yours, Hermione," said Ron, throwing his arm around her shoulder as they all got up to leave. "D'you reckon the Smiths really are the heirs of Hufflepuff, or just conniving thieves..."
They chortled, following Ron out of the library.
During dinner that night, everything Hermione had told them in the library was all they could talk about. They discussed what the Founders' powers could have been—("Slytherin's was definitely him being the biggest git ever," muttered Ron)—and who the heirs could be today.
In light of it all, the Sorting Hat's riddle kept circling around in Hermione's head.
"The first gift found must stolen be,
The second shall inherit,
With borrowed hand the third is claimed,
The last—with given merit."
It was talking about the weapons Merlin gave to the Founders to protect the secret, she knew that now.
But what did it mean? Where were these gifts? They knew about the Gryffindor Sword in Professor Dumbledore's office. They knew about the Hufflepuff Chalice in Helga's tomb in the kitchens. Was Slytherin's locket and Ravenclaw's diadem in Hogwarts as well? Did they have tombs in Hogwarts too?
And the bottom line: Were they supposed to do something about it?
There were far too many unanswered questions and Hermione felt like they were running out of time.
Author's Note:
Merlin, are you done reading yet? Such a slow reader, you are. Can't complain though, this chapter was a BEAST. Over 8700 words, it is by far my longest. But the information was very much in wanting, and the added scenes at the top of this chapter that I added in last night really did make up for what it was already lacking, I think.
Let me know what you think! Next chapter:
The Spy in the Tower.
Dun, dun, DUN...
