A/N: So, I rather enjoyed this chapter. Like, nothing much meaningful happens in it, but I find the picture it paints quite funny.
Thanks for sticking with me this far, shit's about to get a wee bit more interesting in the next like...two(?) chapters. Well, interesting to me, so hopefully to you guys too. Like - stuff's gonna actually happen, or get set in motion, of whatever you want to say.
Enjoy xx
Chapter 20
Five minutes turned, rather easily, into three hours.
When Hermione awoke, she was alone with Dìona's cloak was draped over her body, and the candles had been extinguished. With a groan, she considered just going back to sleep. No-one would be able to find her here, and she really did need to sleep. What with her confusion for the past two weeks, Hermione's brain had been too addled to get much rest. Most nights she had snuck down to the common room to puzzle over the mysteries of the Universe.
Literally.
She turned over onto her side, and was just about to close her eyes again, when she saw a flash of white, as a piece of parchment fell off her stomach and onto the floor. Suddenly wide awake, she sat up, reaching for the parchment as she did, and swung her legs down to the ground.
Rubbing at her eyes, Hermione studied the parchment. On it were just three words.
Read the book.
Hermione snorted. Very funny.
Pushing aside Dìona's cloak, she stood up, stretching her hands above her head as she yawned. She walked over to the mantlepiece, stopping when her foot connected with something. Looking down, she found a piece of lined paper under her foot. Picking it up, she rolled her eyes at the two words scribbled on it.
I'm serious.
Tossing the paper onto the armchair, she continued on her journey, past the mantlepiece and over to the bookshelves. Running her fingers along the spines of the books, she stopped on one which looked promising, Magic of the Soul: A young sorcerer's guide to connecting with your magic. Pulling the book out (who knew magic came in self-help books?), she groaned as she saw the bright orange post-it-note on the cover, right over a rather awful illustration of a teen wizard with a pained smile and a thumbs-up ('if I can do it, so can YOU!').
Read it, Hermione.
She stashed the book back onto the shelf, wondering how Dìona had known which book she was going to pick up. With a thoughtful expression, Hermione pulled out another random book. Her thoughtfulness quickly turned to incredulity, as the book was revealed to have the exact same post-it-note message on it. A quick check at the other books on the shelf showed that they all had the same message on them.
With a huff, Hermione turned away from the bookshelves, stomping back over to the middle of the room. She was half-way across, when something crinkled under her foot. Closing her eyes, and looking to the ceiling, Hermione clenched and unclenched her hands, counting to ten.
Taking a steadying breath, Hermione looked down at the piece of honest-to-god silver tissue paper, on which were five words in sparkling golden ink.
You leave me no choice.
Suddenly worried at what the being might do, Hermione glanced around the room cautiously. When nothing seemed amiss – and she couldn't spot any more notes – Hermione let out a breath, deciding to just leave the room. Walking over to the sofa, she retrieved her notebook, and – after contemplating just leaving it for the errant woman to find – slung Dìona's cloak over her arm.
Just as she was about to open the door, the book fell out of her hands, and landed on the ground face down, its' pages spread open.
With a long-suffering groan, Hermione retrieved the book from the ground. As she picked it up, a gift tag, complete with ribbon, fell out, fluttering to the floor. Picking it up, Hermione looked at it with her brow furrowed.
There was no writing on the tag, and she turned it over in her hands, examining both sides. The only thing identifiable about it was the shimmering pattern, looking almost like the flat surface of a lake, or body of water, the type where when you look in you can see your –
Almost as soon as she thought that, she became aware of a weird tightness on her face, almost the feeling she remembered from when she used to get her face painted at the fairs when she was younger.
She conjured a mirror.
Oh yes, Hermione decided as she stared in horror at her reflection, Dìona was definitely going to get it.