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As a reminder the E version of this fic can be found on AO3 (along with more of my fic) under the username MissELY. I can also be found on Tumblr under the username MissElyLux. My ask box is open!

September 7, 2008

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose with her forefingers and thumb, shutting her eyes and suppressing an exasperated sigh.

The chair at the worktable was hard and uncomfortable and she could tell she had been sitting for too long, but she simply didn't have the energy to get up.

It was near midnight, not that she could tell, given that the windows of the workroom were charmed to show daylight, even when it was well past dusk. It was seven days, six hours, and about sixteen minutes since Minister Shacklebolt had come in, demanding more progress, more speed.

The team was feeling the pressure.

"So we have nothing." Malfoy's expression was pinched as he paced back and forth across the work room.

"Well," said Hermione slowly, desperately grasping for at least some silver lining, "we've finished translating the scroll your father brought in? And we've gone through all the runic dictionaries in print."

Draco snorted and sat heavily in one of the chairs at a worktable.

Quince frowned down at him. The ghost was hovering over the scroll, reading it through for probably the fifteenth time.

Even Nagnok was on edge, his flipping through texts about artifacts had become increasingly aggressive as hours passed without a new lead.

"Well whinging about it certainly won't help." Quince sasid tartly, peering at Malfoy over his glasses.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and his mouth turned to what would be a petulant pout on anyone else. But Hermione would never have told Malfoy that.

Nagnok shut the book he was looking at with a sharp snap and cleared his throat. "I believe this is what you refer to as a dead end."

"Are you certain that there is no more information that the Goblins can provide us with?" Hermione tried to keep the pleading out of her voice but wasn't entirely successful.

"I spoke with Miss Delacour yesterday and she reported that the librarians in the Great Library had made no progress.

Hermione pressed her lips together.

"Alright," the word was more like an extended exhale. "Then we're going in blind."

"Not entirely blind," Quince floated over to settle in front of her. "We now know that the box is Goblin in origin, and we know that the pyramid somehow seems to be connected to it. We now know from the scroll that the role of High King isn't hereditary, and that the position controlled the Wizards' Council and the Wizengamot. We now know that the High King wears the True Crown. That is more than we knew at the start of this."

Malfoy snorted. "That doesn't tell us if any of this has to do with why new laws aren't being registered with the Ledger. Or if this box actually has anything to do with that, or if getting it open will have an impact on the problem we are trying to solve."

Hermione rubbed a hand across her forehead. "Yes. Okay. Well you both are right. But we need to just get the box open and see. Because if we need to explore new avenues of investigation we now only have a month and a half."

She worried her lip. The pyramid was on the worktable in front of her and she reached out to grab it. The weight of it in her hand calmed her frayed nerves and she ran her index finger over its faces, feeling the carvings etched into it.

"Well," she finally said after a minute of silence, "then we're just going to have to bring the pyramid and the box together and see what happens."

"See what happens? Merlin, you want me to tell Harry that we're going to 'see what happens' when we have his—" Malfoy cut himself off, his eyes darting to Hermione.

"I am perfectly capable of doing my job. You answer to me, not to Harry," Hermione bit out.

"What do you mean Draco doesn't answer to me?" Harry walked through the workroom door and glanced around at its occupants. His tone was joking, but his expression was serious. "I guess I have to apologize for years of telling him what to do then."

Hermione smiled wanly at Harry. "I sent word that it would be a long night and that I'd give you an update in the morning."

"I know, but it was a long night for me too. I'm about to leave and I want all of you out . You all have had too many long nights this week." Harry walked far enough in the room to stand behind Hermione. She felt the warmth radiating from his body and did her best not to lean back into him. It had been such a long day, a long week, and she was exhausted.

Harry placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Harry, you've got to tell your witch that her plan is lunacy." Malfoy turned to Harry, lips pursed in disapproval.

"Well, I don't know if you know this Draco, but she's brilliant and knows what she's doing, seeing as she's your actual boss." Harry's tone was dry and calm, but his hand tightened on her shoulder.

Malfoy flapped his hand dismissively and gathered up his things. "Well, don't come crying to me when she tells you what she's on about."

Hermione and Harry watched in silence as the rest of the team packed up and left. Even Quince was headed out to spend some time in his shop.

After a few minutes they were finally alone.

"So," Harry drew out the word and Hermione tilted her head up and back to look up at him. "What was Draco talking about?"

"Well, we've hit a dead end." She allowed herself to lean slightly back into him, and her chest unclenched slightly at his nearness.

"I know, when we talked yesterday you said you were running out of leads."

"Yes, well I'd say those leads are officially out. So tomorrow I'm going to go bring the pyramid into the room with the box."

Harry let go of her shoulder and took a step away from her. Her body leaned towards him still, wanting to follow his comforting presence. She had a moment of panic, thinking he was going to leave, until she saw him walk around the worktable so he could sit across from her.

"What is going to happen then?"

Hermione worried her lower lip with her teeth, thinking.

"We aren't quite sure," Hermione admitted reluctantly. "We believe that there may be a similar reaction to what happened when we broke the ward, a big wave of magic that may physically push us. We also think that the process will require a similar...sacrifice."

Harry did not look happy. In fact, he looked very unhappy.

"So it will be dangerous?"

Hermione shifted in her chair, uneasy. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I don't think so, but I really can't say for certain."

Harry let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through his already messy hair.

"I don't like it."

"I know."

His hand that rested on the work table clenched into a fist. Hermione reached out and placed her hand gently on his. His grip relaxed and he turned over his hand so that it pressed against hers, palm to palm. She intertwined their fingers and gently squeezed, trying to convey reassurance without saying anything. She couldn't tell him it would be fine, because thta would be a lie. She had no real idea what would happen. And the last thing she wanted to do was lie to him.

"Can I do it? Instead of you?"

Hermione was shaking her head before he finished his sentence.

"No. For one, I think that the Wizengamot would have my head for risking the life of the last remaining Duke." Harry shook his head as if to dismiss that concern, but Hermione continued, ignoring his disagreement, "and also, we know that the pyramid was drawn to me and that box reacted to me. It gave me this thing," she lifted her right hand to show off the silvery line that still shone brightly against her tan skin. "And I just—I just have this feeling that I need to do it. I feel like I'm being called to it."

Harry gave her a reluctant smile. "It sounds like you are being called by Magic. I know the feeling. It's why I returned to the U.K., it's why I sought you out for this project."

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe? It's like a magnetic force. It's almost like what I feel when I'm near you, but it's different. It's not as warm or as—" Hermione glanced down, blushing, "It's not as electrifying. But it's there, it's something."

He pulled her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss into the back of her hand. She met his eyes and he was looking up at her through his dark lashes. It was gentle and it made her breath catch in her chest with its tenderness.

"I don't like it. But I know you have to. We will have to have back up in place and there will be a full team of healers on standby." His tone was firm and brokered no argument.

Hermione rubbed small circles with her thumb into his wrist. She felt his pulse thudding, constant and calming.

"I agree. That would probably be for the best."

Harry took a deep breath, and nodded firmly.

"Now that we have that settled; we need to get you home. You need to have a full night's sleep."

Hermione stood, letting go of Harry's hand reluctantly. He helped her gather her things and they walked out of the workroom together, headed home.

September 8, 2008

Much to Hermione's disappointment, Harry didn't stay the night. He had tried to leave her at her door with a searing kiss and a lingering hug, but Hermione had dragged him in and had insisted he at least tuck her into bed again. He had humored her, grinning at her as he kissed her forehead while smoothing her blankets down. She had fallen asleep before she heard him leave.

She had slept well, given that her plan the next day was to put her life at risk.

Again.

For something that was supposed to be a research position, it seemed to involve quite a bit of risking her life.

The morning came too early. She took a quick shower and then wrapped her body in her well-loved terry cloth robe before making her way to the kitchen. She was trying to decide if she had an appetite when a sharp knock on her door startled her so much that she dropped her mug of very hot, very strong coffee.

"Fuck," Hermione grabbed her wand from where it was holding up her hair and cleaned up the mess. There was a red angry spot from where the hot coffee had hit her hand so she placed a cooling charm on it.

Tying her robe more tightly around herself she made her way to her door, wand in hand. She peered through the peephole and her shoulders relaxed. She resecured her hair with her wand and opened her door.

Harry looked remarkably well rested for someone who hadn't left her flat until 1am. His robes were sharply pressed and his hair was tousled in a way that made her want to run her fingers through his hair. He was carrying a wicker picnic basket in one hand.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, ushering him in.

"I wanted to make sure you ate something this morning." He dropped the basket he was carrying on her coffee table and caught her hand, pulling her into a hug.

The thrum of tension in her body loosened abruptly as he enveloped her in his arms. She rested her head against his chest and listened to the calming beat of his heart. Being so close to him felt like sinking into a hot bath; warm, relaxing, and decadent.

He picked her up and she let out an undignified squeak. He carried her to her battered couch and sat down, arranging her in his lap. She melted against his hard chest and he ran a hand up and down the length of her spine. She let out a pleased soft sound.

"How did you sleep?" His voice rumbled through his chest and she felt it under her cheek.

"Okay, considering." Hermione picked at his robes and then turned so that her head rested against his shoulder. He smelled of sandalwood and spices and Hermione inhaled deeply, trying to imprint the memory of his scent into her memory.

Harry hummed in acknowledgement, continuing the soothing motion of his hand up and down the length of her back again and again.

They sat in silence for a minute and Hermione shut her eyes, enjoying being comforted by just being with him.

"Are you sure you have to do it today?" His voice was quiet, but it still broke the silence that had enveloped them.

Hermione nodded against his shoulder, her action nuzzling her closer, her nose against his throat.

Harry laughed softly. "I can't think when you do that."

"Good," Hermione breathed against the bare skin of his neck and watched as goosebumps appeared on his skin. "Then sit here with me and we can choose not to think for a while."

They sat together, curled around each other, taking comfort from each other.

After what felt a second Hermione was standing outside the doors of the room that held the box. Harry had walked in ahead of her, but she wasn't alone. A fully healer-squad was waiting outside the room, chatting amongst themselves. She swallowed hard, the visual reminder that she was putting herself in danger hitting her again.

She took a few steps even closer to the door and she could feel it. She didn't remember if she had felt it when she had been in the room before, but she felt it now. This pull towards the room, it called to her, asking her to open the door and walk inside.

When they had conducted the additional tests on the box, it had been Nagnok who had actually done the tests. She had aided in reviewing the results, but they had all agreed that it would be best to keep her away from the artifact during the experiments, given its reaction to her. So this was the first time she had been back since she broke the ward.

She put her hand in her pocket and wrapped it around the pyramid, the point digging into her palm painfully.

Hermione took a shaky breath. Nearly a month and a half of work had led them to this point.

She placed her free hand on the door and felt the magic of the runes she knew lined the room buzz in recognition against her palm. The door opened to reveal more people than she expected. They all lined the back wall, as far away from the box as possible. Harry was already there, along with Draco, Nagnok, and Quince. Also present was Professor Dumbledore, Penelope Weasley, Theodore Nott, Fluer Delacouer, and much to her shock, King Ragnok.

Shutting the door behind her, she gave a shallow bow to King Ragnok before focusing her attention on the box.

The opaque glass box was throwing off light in a way it hadn't the last time she had been in the room. She bit down on her lip, letting the point of the pyramid dig deeper into her palm.

She walked towards the box, drawn in by its presence. It radiated power, and she didn't understand how the other people in the room weren't drawn in as well. Her steps were slow and deliberate, she held herself back from running towards the box.

The edge of the table that held the box hit her thighs and she realized she was as close as she could get. Her hand was still in her pocket; the pyramid had begun to heat as she approached and it was nearly searing into the skin of her hand.

She drew the pyramid out and held her breath, her teeth breaking the skin of her plush lower lip. She tasted blood.

The room was completely silent, like everyone was holding their breaths along with her.

Hermione moved to place the pyramid in the blank square at the top of the box. Her hand was an inch away before the pyramid jumped out of her palm. She barely repressed a flinch at the sudden movement. The pyramid clicked into place and began to rotate.

The box began pulsating light; bright then dark, bright then dark. The runes seemed to hold the light, and the gold edging began to gleam.

The pulse of the glowing box matched the rotation of the pyramid. THe pyramid spun faster and faster until it was a blur of gold on the top of the box. The glow of the box matching, becoming near constant.

Hermione tried to take a step back, but found herself unable to move. Her legs were locked in place, and she couldn't even bend her knees. Her pulse sped. It felt like it was in time to the pulse of the light from the box. Her heart was rattling against her ribcage, and adrenaline seeped into her veins.

Her breath rattled out of her chest in a harsh pant.

It felt like her world had narrowed to just the pulse of light. The rest of the world had fallen away. She could no longer see or hear the other people in the room. She could only hear her own shaky breath, the whooshing of her own heartbeat, and the coppery tang of her own blood in her mouth. The ground had fallen away from her feet. She could have been floating for all she knew.

Cracks of brighter light began to form on the box. The first crack came at the gold edging. From the crack a bright pure white light shone.

Her breath caught again.

It was beautiful.

The crack spread. The light was blinding. Hermione tried to turn her head or shield her eyes, but found she couldn't move at all, her arms glued to her sides and her hands curled into fists.

Her heart was in her throat, and for a moment the panic overwhelmed her before ice trickled through her, starting at the top of her head, then spreading down through her chest, through her limbs, until a single thought came to her. This would kill her. The knowledge that she was about to die settled deep in her chest. It was oddly calming. Of course this would be what would kill her. Of course it would be now when her relationship with Harry was in its infancy and she was finally living.

Her vision was consumed entirely by light. She could not tell if her eyes were open or shut. She couldn't hear anything. She couldn't feel the rest of her body. All she knew was light.

She willed herself to blink, to reach out, to do something. Her fingers twitched and she was receiving sensory input from them. She desperately tried to process what she was feeling. She couldn't tell if her arm was raised or lowered, but the feeling against the pads of her fingers was cold, and the texture of whatever she was touching was smooth and then rough, and then smooth again.

She was touching the glass of the box. The change in texture was her fingertips glancing over the carved runes.

It was cool, which surprised her in a distant sort of way. She would have thought that such a bright light would be hot. A cool breeze emanated from the box and she felt it ruffle her unruly hair. It reminded her of the walks she would take around the Black Lake early in the fall or late in the spring. Cool, crisp, fresh.

She inhaled deeply, trying to see if it smelled like Scotland in the fall when everything around her went dark.

Hermione couldn't tell if it was because she had finally managed to close her eyes or if it was because the box had killed her.

Her question was answered when she heard Harry bite out a curse from behind her.

She blinked her eyes several times, trying to clear her vision.

Several wands lit up behind her, illuminating the room with their eerie blue light.

The box was open.

And there was blood on her hands.

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