Snuggled in her favourite alcove with a soft blanket in utter tranquillity, she lifted the next book on her fifth tower as the last thirty-six helped nothing. Hermione sighed and turned the first few pages about the writer.
She stated to think her efforts were all wasted – as if Hogwarts had just light and pink magic printed in all those books... She'd checked the restricted section of the library more than ten times already, and beside that three stocks near the stock of astronomy maps and books, full of healing spells, there was no more about dark artefacts.
Nothing. Just like... wosh! Not a single, random piece of information that she could track the others down. It was like the teachers had vanished everything about evil – not even leaving a puzzle open for capable students, like Dumbledore liked to do so.
It was troubling.
She pinched her lips together as tightly as she could while she tried to think about some kind of solution to her problem. All she knew that she was searching for a dagger, dark artefact probably, with some kind of venom steeped in the metal that caused hallucinations and extreme level of pain, maybe fever too – and was totally for longer term.
That's all. And even when she managed to find something that's description matched with hers, the artefacts were sure to be either lost, on the other side of the globe, in a museum or under muggle-supervision.
She dropped her current leather-bound, heavy textbook about magically enchanted swords in disappointment. It's started with Excalibur and she was sure she'd read this book in her fourth year already.
There was nothing in the Britain's biggest library about Bellatrix's dagger. Therefore she had no chance to heal the carving – which decided to bleed today yet again, so was wrapped tightly in gauze –, and have a tattoo made over it.
She bit in her lip as she reached for another book – now from the astronomy pack. She opened the second one – Constellations and their Magical History. She still had four more scars that needed and could be covered, and as she was determined to at least have one more decided.
Before she truly could indulge in Europa and Zeus' escapade and the birth of the Taurus constellation, she heard knocking on the glass window near her. With dreamy eyes she looked up to see an irritated Pigwidgeon.
She knotted her eyebrows and opened the upper window to let the hooting owl in. The little bird dropped two letters in her lap before taking off again, not waiting for answer as if afraid of staying too long.
With a shrug, Hermione grabbed both eagerly, suspecting who were the writers of those. On the letter's front she found her name in Harry's bold and sudden handwriting and without a second glance at the other, she broke the wax.
Hermione,
I'm sorry for not writing in the mean time, the Auror training is exhausting and even there, we got a tone of homework... It's bloody annoying! A man would think when out of school he'd not receive any more of essays and here it is: the example! Also, have you got any idea what could the Draught of Living Death cause in animal's anatomy? I've even looked it up at Grimmauld Place and nothing helped. You're my only hope!
Recently, me and Ron had the luck of getting special training, that's why we will be away for a few month – we're going to Germany, don't worry! Expect us back to New Years!
Hope you're doing well! Tell us everything, what's going on in the Gryffindor tower?
And with scratches, both boys left their signatures on the bottom of the parchment.
With a smile she put the letter in her bag, careful not to get it crumpled at the edges. She always put their letters away to keep it as a memory for worse times.
She would have turned back to reading but saw the other piece of parchment – wet and the ink of the italic, swimming letters smeared on the edges. Hermione lifted it, studying the writing cautiously – but still unable to determine who wrote that. Not Harry or Ron, that was for sure.
With narrowed eyes, she tried her fingers on the ink, and was surprised to see her black fingertips. There was no way it came from the Burrow or Grimmauld Place for that matter. Pigwedgeon must have got caught and...!
She shook her head in denial – no one was mental enough for this. But she was still unsure about the note in her hands, saying only two words:
Thank you.
With a shrug she dropped it in her bag too, near the letter and pulled up her reading material. It was simpler than worrying about complex conspiracy theories that were ridiculous even to her. Who wanted to hijack an owl anyway? Especially to thank her something she didn't even know about?
Her amused snort suppressed her laughter as she stuck her nose in the book once more.
Little did she know about the herd of Slytherin men groaning pitifully on Hogwarts' grounds, their skin covered in owl bites and hair full of feathers. Not to mention their expensive, now muddy robes.
Next chapter will have Pansy. Also, thank you for your support guys, it's always exciting to read your thoughts upon chapters! ;D
And, if you still don't know - I have a tumblr account, under the same username like in here - so Aischenna, that is. Also, I've not been sleeping in the last few days. Damn Attack on Titan. I totally remarathoned it. Sorry. I just needed to tell.