I had to splice this chapter so it's shorter than i would have liked, but the next one will be up in a few minutes. Sorry it took so long, life's been crazy but I'm out of the woods now. Also I've been stalling because I hate writing dialogue and I got obsessed with Lady Dimitrescu.
A letter arrived from Poliakoff, informing Hermione that Gregorovitch was dead after being in hiding for months. Poliakoff didn't know who the murderer was, but he theorised that it was a powerful wizard following rumours that the wandmaker was the master of the elder wand. Hermione found it hard to believe something from a children's fairy tale, especially since this supposed omnipotent wand only seemed to cause it's master's to die, rather than making them a 'master of death'. And there was no historical document (at least, not one she had seen) that proved Gregorovitch to have mastered the wand. Hermione placed the letter in her drawer and let her eyes wander over her Slytherin prefect badge, head girl badge, inquisitorial squad badge, and meaningless academic trophies on her shelf. Her NEWT and OWL results were framed beside a prim photo of herself and professor Slughorn, which used to make her feel on par with other 'slug club' alumni like Regulus Black. Her school friends waved cheerfully from their pictures, eliciting naively happy memories. Hermione smiled fondly at them before leaving to take Raven out for a ride. They flew aimlessly across the cotswolds for hours, exploring hills and groves aimlessly, and stopping to drink from a little waterfall in a copse.
The 19th of September came around: Hermione's nineteenth birthday. Gemma was already at their house with Marcus, and Terrence and Miles would come round shortly to sleep over. Presents from her parents were accepted as graciously as possible. She still avoided them ever since the ball, and was newly irritated that her Father allowed her job at the ministry to be taken advantage of. Her mother had given her a pearl necklace and matching earrings; Father handed on a knife that his own father used in the first wizarding war. It had a sharp clip point, and the handle was engraved with the family motto: Puritatem scintillas semper ignis ardentis colligati. The knife was enchanted to never harm the owner, or any blood relative of the Flints. Marcus gave her a bottle of gin. The best present of all was a package flown in from Severus; it contained potions, all made perfectly by Hermione in class. Bottled and sealed was the draught of living death, a laughing potion, veritaserum, elixir to induce euphoria, antidote to common poisons, and a fire protection potion. His letter was blunt but surprisingly sweet, admitting that he preserved them to gift after she had graduated, in the first autumn term in seven years that she wouldn't be spending at Hogwarts.
An unfamiliar swan-like patronus appeared in her room, startlingly white, with swirling blue wisps of light being emitted as it landed in front of her, and tucked in it's great wings. It looked like an egret, with it's elegant legs and long serpentine neck. The blue eyes of the patronus looked straight into her as Narcissa's voice issued from it, as loud and clear as if she was actually in the room beside her.
"Happy birthday, Hermione. Well done on getting into the department of mysteries, I'm proud of you… sorry it all turned out how it did, with Thicknesse replacing Scrimgeor. I ought to have foreseen that you would be dragged into it, but I was wrapped up in giving you what you wanted… anyway- none of that today. Have a wonderful time, darling, and enjoy yourself."
Narcissa's patronus vanished as quickly as it came, leaving Hermione with an uncontainable smile, and a feeling of euphoric buoyancy in her stomach. She felt guilty, too, upon remembering her daydream. It seemed less perverse when she hadn't seen the witch in months, because she could be reduced to a figment of imagination. Hermione didn't know how she would conceal the contents of her daydream in front of Narcissa, if and when they next met. Thank Merlin patronuses can't read minds.
Miles arrived, shortly followed by Terrence, who came bearing an armful of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans and fizzing whizbees. Miles had picked up on Hermione's complaints about dementors in her workplace in a letter she barely remembered writing. Thoughtfully, he bought every type of chocolate in honeydukes to help thaw the sadness.
Marcus was good enough to sneak a few bottles up from the wine cellar, and all five of them sprawled about Hermione's room, discussing the coup. Terrence and Miles had been inducted into the death eater youth that same day, as extra feet were needed on the ground. The death eater youth was now the informal name for the department of magical law patrol, since they had replaced most of the previous employees. Miles was quietly upset that his dreams to follow in the path of his musical mother were put on hold indefinitely, and Gemma flooded Hermione with praise about her position in the ministry.
"The department of mysteries must be so much more interesting than the Wizengamot administration service. And to be in control of it! All we do is go through birth records to find and imprison muggle-borns, and I feel awful about it, I had to watch a boy having his soul sucked out of him the other day. No-one in the world deserves that, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy… Honestly, it's hard to stay annoyed at you- for beating me in becoming the youngest head of department ever. I mean, you did cheat a bit by taking part in the coup- but I am glad I wasn't asked to help with that. It was a bit of a shock when everyone started duelling, but they knew not to attack pure-bloods or Slytherins. Even Marcus didn't know anything until the moment before it started, or he would have warned me. It was all inner-circle level top-secret."
Gemma took a break from her monologue, idly sipping wine from her place next to Marcus on Hermione's trunk. Her eyes drifted to Macus's death eater ring; the signature skull with a serpent weaving through its mouth. Hermione noticed her lips purse, as if to prevent herself from starting an argument. Unbeknownst to her oblivious boyfriend, Gemma shot him a worried look, staring beseechingly at the side of his face.
Last night Hermione overheard them having a row, with her brother convinced he ought to get branded by the dark mark, and Gemma begging him not to.
"I don't find it hard to stay annoyed at you," Marcus grinned toothily, pulling Hermione out of her thoughts; "Knowing secrets before I do, consistently usurping your elders and betters… you'll never fail to piss me off. Actually, that's a good thing for you- wasn't your boggart a failed exam?"
He and Terrence roared with laughter at the memory from third year. Hermione narrowed her eyes at them, pointing angrily at the 'Happy Birthday Hermione!' banner on her wall.
"My boggart was a giant," her brother continued. "That's a reasonable fear, you know, something that could actually kill you."
"Are you sure you weren't just afraid of Hagrid?" Hermione retorted.
"Not as afraid as you were of getting in trouble with teachers. You were so funny in first year."
"Can't deny that," Terrence snickered. "But to be fair, my boggart would have been McGonagle if it wasn't-"
"Trying to catch the snitch at the Quidditch world cup, then realising you had no clothes on." Miles interjected.
Marcus and Gemma went to bed after a while, leaving the trio to waste away the evening, drunkenly hovering a few inches off the ground thanks to the fizzing whizbees.
"You were there when Potter got into the ministry, right?" Asked Miles, turning comically in the air to face her as she nodded. "Must have been exciting. Yaxley managed to get into their safe house but they escaped. They were squatting at Grimmauld place- you know, the Black's house. Bellatrix was supposed to inherit it when she killed Sirius, but it was given to Potter instead. They won't go back now we know where it is. I'm patrolling outside, it's so boring. Bellatrix is still working on breaking all the protective charms, she tried to curse me when one backfired."
Miles tried to hand her a chocolate frog but it escaped, jumping to freedom across her mattress before she managed to retrieve it. The hovering charm started to wear off, and they drifted back down. Hermione opened another bottle and drank deeply before handing it around, since their glasses lay forgotten in the corner. She was more drunk than them, past the point of being her usual talkative self, and simply played with her new pearl necklace as she listened to the boys talk.
"It was a mess trying to catch the escaped muggle-borns who were awaiting trial." Said Miles. "All eyes were on potter, and he helped them escape."
"Were you there after Scrimgeor was assinated?" Terrence hiccuped. Hermione shook her head and tried to plait Miles's curled hair. "The aftermath was nuts. One moment all you know is that a war is going on, the next Marcus is frantically gathering you, saying the Dark Lord is using the new minister like a puppet, Potter escaped again, and you're needed to contain the dozens of wizards on the run. It's weird being ordered around by your brother. No offence, but I feel like I've mentally surpassed him at this point. And I had no clue that he could take anything more seriously than Quidditch. I wish I was playing quidditch these days. We could play anywhere now the statute of secrecy no longer exists here. But everyone's too busy."
Miles invented a drinking game with the jellybeans. They each took turns closing their eyes and picking out one at random, and if it happened to be a flavour so disgusting they couldn't swallow it, they had to take a shot. Baked beans were just about edible, but pepper and vomit had them spluttering and taking a shot every time. The sun was rising when they finally went to sleep.