CHAPTER 34: RUNES
"Granger," Malfoy called out, pulling her attention away from the runes she was currently translating. "Do you happen to have that scroll from the fourteen hundreds on hand? You know, the one about optimal runic combinations for warding and the impact of geological variables?"
"I'm sure I had it not long ago," Hermione replied.
Her eyes surveyed the plethora of parchment, scrolls and books spread out around her. Unsatisfied with Malfoy's too small writing desk, she had taken to laying on her stomach atop the wizard's plush rug to utilise the floor space.
Spotting the scroll Malfoy was after, she propped herself up on one elbow as she angled her wand at the parchment. With a silent Accio she summoned the parchment forward before duplicating it with a swift charm. Smiling to herself, she cast the spell Malfoy had taught her to cause the parchment to fold itself into an origami bird. Tapping her wand against it once more to animate the small creation, she lifted it up in the palm of her hand before blowing on it lightly to encourage it into flight.
As the small, intricately folded hummingbird rapidly flapped its wings to hover before him, he leant forward from where he had been resting against his headboard. Taking the small parchment bird in his hands, he raised a single brow as he looked down at where she lay.
"You've been practicing, I see."
The small smile she had worn pulled into a wide grin at hearing the undertone of praise in his words. When Malfoy had first shown her the charm, she could barely manage a simple paper airplane, let alone the origami crane he had demonstrated. The spell required the caster to maintain a strong visualisation of their desired outcome. Not to mention the charm relied heavily on intuitive magic, something Hermione had always struggled with. Perfecting wand movements and correct pronunciation of incantations, these things she could grasp with relative ease. Riding a broom however, practicing Occlumency. No, intuitive magic had never come naturally to her.
Over the last month, Hermione had become near obsessed with practicing the charm. In part, she had been fuelled by spite, not wanting Malfoy to best her any of her spellwork. Though she also knew, if she was being honest with herself, that she had focused so intently on the charm because she had missed the wizard.
Malfoy smiled one of his rare, genuine smiles as he tapped the parchment bird with his wand, causing it to still before it unfolded itself atop his open palm. Godric, she had missed that smile. She couldn't believe that just yesterday they were not even on speaking terms, and now here they were, once again working in unison to unravel the mystery of the ancient scroll.
They had decided to skip going to the library for their Restoration double, instead choosing to spend much needed time together, somewhere they ran no risk of being intruded upon. In their month of misunderstanding fuelled avoidance, they had both taken it upon themselves to work diligently on their library repairs and were as such ahead of schedule. When it came came to the enchanted runic scroll however, a breakthrough eluded them still.
"Can you bring the scroll from the alcove up here?" Malfoy asked, breaking her from her thoughts.
She pushed herself up into a sitting position and collected the heavily warded scroll from its place in her beaded bag. Standing, she made her way to the edge of his bed and held the scroll out for him to take.
Malfoy smirked at her, his eyes alight with mischief. He reached up and wrapped his hand around her proffered wrist, before tugging her lightly forward. A soft yelp left her as she fell forward onto the mattress. Clambering up onto her knees she scowled at Malfoy. His lip twitched and then he laughed, an honest to Merlin, unfeigned laugh. The joyful sound reverberated through her, and she felt her skin flush.
"Come here," he said as he spread his legs wider and motioned for her to come sit between his thighs.
She felt her cheeks heat further and was certain there would be no mistaking the blush that crossed her features. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she edged forward, turning her back to him as she sat between his legs. Malfoy's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back with ease, her body now pressed firmly against his chest. The wizard placed a chaste kiss to the top of her head before sweeping her wild hair to one side so he could see over her shoulder.
Taking the scroll from her grasp, he disabled the protective warding before unfurling it for them both to see. "Look at this, right here."
With no small amount of difficulty Hermione forced herself to focus on the runes before her, rather than the feel of his body against hers. She frowned as she stared down at the symbol he was pointing out, her mind struggling to identify it's significance. Then, suddenly, she saw it. Her eyes grew wide as she inhaled a startled gasp. The rune was a match, an exact match, for one in the warding scroll from the fourteen hundreds. It was a breakthrough. An actual, genuine piece of information to further their research upon.
She turned herself in his arms, her torso twisting so she could reach up and take his face in her hands. She smiled at him, a wide smile filled with unbridled joy, before she pulled his face down claiming his lips with her own.
Too soon, Hermione thought, Malfoy pulled his lips from hers and they gasped for air in unison. She moved to chase his lips and with them the bliss his touch brought. However, she was stilled as the wizard cupped her cheek and shifted, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. His larger stature allowed him to maneuver further out of her reach as he moved to rest his chin on the top of her head.
"As much as I'd love to snog you senseless right now," he mumbled into her hair. "We should examine this scroll further."
She sighed. He was right, they had finally made a significant discovery after months of seemingly hopeless research. She shifted once more, turning back to face the foot of the bed. Allowing herself one last moment of distraction, she savoured the wonderful pressure against her abdomen as Malfoy's hand slipped once more around her waist to hold her against his body.
Her eyelids fell closed as she inhaled deeply through her nose. Expelling the air from her lungs she focused her mind and opened her eyes. Gathering the scrolls from where they had fallen atop the mattress, she unfurled them both and placed them side by side.
As her gaze raced back and forth across the lines on runic script, she felt her earlier excitement diminish. Upon completing her second read through, her shoulders slumped forward in disappointment. There wasn't a single other rune in the entire text that matched that of enchantment scroll. One shared rune was simply not enough to build a foundation for comparative dialectology.
"Don't be disheartened, Granger."
"I thought this was it," she lamented. "I thought this would be our breakthrough."
"I recognise another rune," Malfoy stated.
Her head swivelled to look at him as her brows shot up in surprise. "What? From where?"
"Remember the Black family Grimoire I told you about?"
"Yes," she replied, her curiosity growing.
"This one here," Malfoy said, pointing out a rune on the scroll from the Library of Alexandria. "It stood out to me immediately. It is etched into the side of the Grimoire, right at the top of the spine."
Hermione's mind raced. If this rune etched into the side of Malfoy's Grimoire could be linked to the one in the enchanted scroll they had found, then it was plausible it could be the key to translating this forgotten runic dialect.
"Do you recognise any of the other runes from the scroll as ones that may have been in the Grimoire?"
"Unfortunately, I couldn't tell you," he replied. "The pages of the Grimoire are enchanted to be automatically translated into the native language of the reader, so long as they are of Black lineage."
Frustrated, Hermione huffed a sharp breath through her nose. "What use is that to us then, if you will just see the text in English?"
Malfoy smirked, "Haven't figured it out yet, Granger?"
"Figured out what?" she snapped back, her frustration only growing in response to his snarky tone.
"You are not a Black," he said matter-of-factly.
"Of course I'm not a- Oh!" she exclaimed, her brows raising as her mouth fell open. "I'm not a Black! The enchantment won't work on me, so in theory I should be able to see the original text."
"Which I suspect, given the approximate age of the Grimoire's creation, will likely contain at least some runic entries from the same time frame as this scroll from the fourteen hundreds. Not to mention the rune-"
"Etched into the spine would suggest it likely to contain at least some entries in the dialect we are searching for," Hermione said enthusiastically, finishing Malfoy's sentence.
The wizard chuckled. "Exactly. And if you can view the original entries of what I can clearly read in English, we should be able to work in collaboration to form at least a basis for translation."
"We need to get this Grimoire, it could be the answer we've been searching for."
"Unfortunately, Mother is prohibited from sending out mail as a condition of her probation, as am I. As you know, I'm also not permitted to leave Hogwarts grounds."
Hermione gnawed at her lower lip thoughtfully, there had to be a way they could acquire the book. "What can we do? We need this, Draco."
The wizard smiled softly at her use of his given name and she felt her skin flush in response. She thought to turn her body fully to face his, to claim his lips in a searing kiss. However, just as she made to move, his smile fell, a small crease forming between his brows.
"We only have two options," he stated. "We wait until my probation comes to an end in late May, or – and I hate to even ask this of you – you go to the Manor to see my mother."
Her body stiffened, her breath catching in her lungs as all consuming fear took hold. The mere mention of that place, the place where it had happened. The Manor. The drawing room. That cold, marble flooring she could still picture so vividly.
"Hey," Malfoy said softly, one hand coming up to apply a comforting pressure just below the hollow of her collarbone. "Breathe."
She did as he said, inhaling a sharp, wavering breath. She exhaled slowly and focused on returning her breaths to an even pace. In and out.
"I'm sorry I mentioned it," he said once her breathing had returned to normal and her body relaxed in his hold. "Just forget it, it's a horrible idea. You shouldn't have to go back there."
"No," she replied quickly. "I have to. There isn't any other way. We need these answers, we can't wait. Someone went to great lengths to hide this scroll and the knowledge it contains. We need to know why. We can't trust someone else with this information, not yet. Not until we know what it is. No, we can't wait months, not when the answers we've been searching for might be within our grasp."
"Bloody Gryffindors and their Salazar be damned bravery," Malfoy said, shifting her in his arms so that she could turn and face him.
He cupped her cheek in one hand and tenderly guided her face up to meet his, with a slight tilt of his head he slanted his lips over hers. Hermione hummed softly against his lips as she pressed up into the kiss. Without breaking his lips away from hers, Malfoy reached behind him and fumbled blindly for his wand. Finding it, he cast a swift series of silent charms, the various scrolls and textbooks open on his bed hastily closed and levitated to his desk. Tossing his wand aside, the wizard returned his full attention to her, guiding her backwards until she lay on his plush mattress.
His lips left hers as he shifted atop her, his knee sliding between her own, causing her legs to part slightly. His mouth finding the column of her neck, he kissed and sucked a path to her pulse point. Eyelids fluttering closed, a soft moan fell from her parted lips as her hands flew upward, grasping for purchase against his body. She could feel the taut muscles of his back, strained by the effort of holding his body off hers as he propped himself up on his elbows.
Her hands caressed a path upward, fingers threading through his hair. Tilting her to head further to one side, Hermione deepened their kiss, arousal coursing through her and settling low in her belly as he responded in kind.
"Draco," she moaned breathily as he pulled his lips from hers.
A low grumble escaped his throat as his eyes fell closed, brows pinching before he shifted forward to rest his forehead against hers.
"You have no idea what that does to me, to hear my name on your lips," he whispered huskily.
She found herself unable to respond, her mouth suddenly and inexplicably dry as her pulse thumped low in her core.
After a moment, Malfoy exhaled a slow breath. "We should- I should stop, before we… too soon," he mumbled as pulled himself away from her.
As he shifted backward to sit on his haunches, he extended a hand in her direction. Placing her hand in his, she allowed him to help her up into a sitting position. Now upright and no longer thoroughly enthralled by Malfoy's strong body positioned above her own, Hermione felt suddenly flustered. She brought her hand up to her mouth, her fingertips brushing against her swollen lower lip.
"I- uh," Hermione stammered. "I should go. Go see McGonagall, that is. See if, er- Ask about going to… going to the Manor."
Malfoy smirked at her knowingly. While it was prudent to seek permission to visit the Malfoy home as soon as possible, Hermione had to admit to herself it was not the sole reason she felt the need to leave. She had never once been snogged like that in her life, not even Krum had… No, she needed to leave, collect herself.
"Go," Malfoy said, leaning over to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. "I'll see you in Arithmancy."
As Hermione ascended the spiralling stone steps to the Headmistresses office, she worried her lower lip anxiously. After Malfoy had snogged her so thoroughly, she had decided to head out to see McGonagall before her fear had the chance to take hold once more. Now, on the verge of being face to face with her once head of house, Hermione worried she had acted too hastily. She had no idea how to broach such a delicate subject, how to make her unusual request.
"Come in," McGonagall's voice called from behind her ornate office doors.
Shit, she was out of time. Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, Hermione stepped forward. As she approached the large door, it swung open of its own accord to admit her entrance.
"Miss Granger," the headmistress greeted, turning from the bookcase to face Hermione as she entered the room. "Is everything progressing well with yours and Mr Malfoy's Restoration project?"
"Yes Professor. We are actually quite a ways ahead of our schedule with the Library's repairs. That's not actually why I've come to see you this morning."
"Oh, I see," McGonagall replied, moving to her desk before taking her seat and gesturing for Hermione to follow suit. "What then, may I ask, brings you to my office?"
Hermione sat herself down opposite her headmistress, her hands moving to smooth down the hem of her grey school skirt in a nervous gesture.
"I was hoping you would be able to speak with the Ministry, on my behalf, in regards to organising visitation for myself to a restricted premises," Hermione stated.
McGonagall's brows elevated ever so slightly, the only facial tell of her intrigue. However, the headmistress did not reply immediately. Instead waving her wand with a swish and a flick and levitating over a tea service from a side table. The older witch poured herself a cup of the steaming liquid before holding the pot out in Hermione's direction. Finding her mouth parched as a result of her anxiety, she inclined her head swiftly to accept McGonagall's offer. Once the professor had poured her a cup, Hermione busied herself fixing her beverage with a spoon of sugar and a small dash of milk. She stirred the tea, longer than was strictly necessary, before taking a small sip and lifting her eyes once more. McGonagall sat patiently across from her still, yet her facial features had shifted to an expectant look.
Hastily swallowing her mouthful of hot liquid, Hermione exhaled sharply before she elaborated. "I need to retrieve a book."
"Are you needing to obtainpermission to visit another library, Miss Granger? I'm not sure my name will hold the same international influence as Minister Shackbolt's."
"Not exactly", Hermione replied. "I do need to visit a library, although it is a private family library."
"I fail to see why you are here then, speaking to me, rather than seeking permission from this family directly."
"I am unable to correspond with her directly. Not to mention, I believe I'll need Ministry approval to even visit the property," Hermione replied in way of explanation.
The headmistress's lips pursed, "I am afraid I do not understand. With whom do you intend to visit?"
She felt her nerves begin to take hold as she thought of the place she needed to return to. The teacup in her grasp began to rattle against its saucer, so she quickly placed it down atop McGonagall's desk.
"I… I need to visit Malfoy Manor."
"I see," Professor McGonagall replied, her eyes narrowing. "And what, may I ask, are you hoping to obtain from the Malfoy Library?"
For a moment, Hermione considered lying to the headmistress. She knew she could not share the secret of the runic scroll, not yet at least. But that did not mean she couldn't tell the truth, she just had to choose her words carefully. If spending so much time with a Slytherin had taught her anything beneficial, it was the value of a cunning nature. She need not lie to McGonagall, simply omit fragments of the truth.
"When I asked for your assistance with transport to Cairo, I told you that I was working on an extracurricular research project," Hermione began.
"Yes," McGonagall replied, arching a single brow.
"I do not believe that I mentioned at that time that I was conducting this research with Malfoy's assistance."
"No." The headmistress's frown lines deepened. "No, you certainly did not."
"We have been working together on a document we found while restoring the damaged alcove of the Library. The text contains an uncommon runic dialect, one we've been attempting to translate."
"So, this pursuit of Mr Malfoy and yourself, is purely academic?"
"Of course, Professor."
How could it be anything else, Hermione thought, not yet at least. Not when they had no clue as to what information the scroll could possibly contain.
"And I am to understand that Mr Malfoy has requested you visit the Manor on his behalf? To collect a book from his family's library?" asked McGonagall.
Deciding it best to continue with her tactic of partial truths, Hermione replied, "We have been studying the transcripts I acquired from the Library of Alexandria and believe we have finally made some headway. Malfoy recognised a rune and believes an old family book may be of assistance to our ongoing research."
McGonagall sat quietly for a moment and Hermione began to worry that the older witch might press her for further information on the scroll they were attempting to translate.
"You are certain," the headmistress began, breaking the silence that had begun to stretch between them. "That Mr Malfoy has not misled you in some way? He has made no attempt to coerce you into circumnavigating the restrictions placed upon him?"
"Draco would never do that!" Hermione exclaimed.
Hermione was unsure if it was her abrupt tone, or perhaps her use of Malfoy's given name, that had caused the professor's eyes to widen and her lips to part in evident surprise. Either way, she couldn't deny the small sense of satisfaction she felt upon drawing the reaction from the headmistress.
"He wouldn't use me like that," Hermione continued. Her voice was calmer now, yet she was unable to fully mask the annoyance she felt at the professor's accusation. "He made it quite clear that we could wait until both his and his mother's probations reach their conclusion before we pursue this line of research. However, I am far too curious, far too involved in this project, to wait until May to retrieve this tome."
"Miss Granger, Hermione… Please allow me to be frank with you, not as your headmistress, but as your friend. I must ask, are you prepared to return there?"
Hermione's gaze dropped from McGonagall's, falling to stare at her arms where they rested on her lap. The grotesque brand that marred her forearm itched, her skin crawling beneath her sleeve. She screwed her eyes shut tight as she fought the urge to claw at her own flesh.
"Hermione," said McGonagall, startling her back to attention. It was evident by the concern that laced the headmistress's tone that Hermione had been silent for far longer than she realised.
Exhaling a slow breath, Hermione relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I'm fine, Professor."
McGonagall stood, her chair scraping against the stone floor as she did so. The professor walked the short distance across the room to a large cabinet. With her back to Hermione, she spoke. "Do not forget, Hermione, that I too was a member of the Order. I know you do not wish to speak on what you experienced, and I will not push you on that matter. However, I am fully aware of what you suffered at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange."
Hermione was thankful the headmistress had been turned away from her when she spoke, for she had nearly convulsed at the mention of the deranged witch. She was not oblivious to the fact that crazy bitch's name was eliciting an increasingly volatile reaction from her. It had become obvious that simply attempting to ignore her own trauma was in no way beneficial. It was time she tried something new.
A resounding thud snapped Hermione's attention back to McGonagall, who had evidently returned to her desk. As the headmistress took her seat, Hermione's gaze dropped to the thick tome that now sat upon the timber table top. With a flick of her wand, McGonagall charmed the large book open, its pages turning with incredible speed until it came to rest. From her vantage Hermione could see that the book was a ledger of some sort, but could not make out what was listed.
"Are you aware that, as Headmistress, I am informed of all potions and treatments administered to my students under the care of Madam Pomfrey?" McGonagall asked, running her finger down the list before glancing up at Hermione over the rim of her reading glasses.
"No," she replied, her anxiety peaking. "I wasn't aware that that information was shared outside the confines of the healer-patient relationship."
Fuck.She really did not want to be having this conversation. All her efforts to keep her potion addiction a secret and as it turned out, the headmistress had been privy to her usage all along. That didn't mean the older witch knew of the extent of her substance abuse, Hermione rationalised. She needed to remain calm, logical, lest she give herself away.
"Normally one's potion regiment would be kept in the utmost of confidence," McGonagall replied, closing the heavy ledger. "However, as your headmistress, I have a duty of care. I would be neglecting that responsibility now if I did not ask, are you certain you are prepared to return to the Manor? Prepared to face what has been haunting you to such an extent that you require the ongoing use of this draught?"
Her leg began to bounce beneath the desk as she thought on the professor's question. Was she prepared to return to that place? Could someone ever truly be prepared to return to the place they were tortured? Where they had accepted the inevitability of their own demise? No, she wasn't ready. She likely never would be. However, she recalled what she had read about once, in a Muggle psychology book. Exposure therapy they had called it. It was possible that confronting this fear was what she needed in order to heal.
"I need to try," she said. "I need to face it."
"Very well," McGonagall conceded, unfurling a fresh roll of parchment and dipping her quill into her inkpot. "I will see what I can do. I am afraid it may take some time to organise, however. Mrs Malfoy is, after all, on house arrest, so an Auror may be required to escort you onto the premises. I will keep you informed of any developments."
Recognising her dismissal, Hermione rose from her seat. "I understand. Thank you, Professor."
"Miss Granger," McGonagall called after her.
Hermione turned back to face the headmistress once more. "Yes?"
"In regards to the incident you brought to my attention last night. I wish to inform you that Professor Hale has taken it upon himself to refer Miss Parkinson to the board of directors, where she is to face a disciplinary hearing. At that time, it will be determined if a suspension is to be implemented."
She couldn't help the satisfied smile that pulled at the corner of her mouth upon hearing that news.
As Hermione descended the Headmaster's Tower, she felt anxiety grip her once more. She knew she was doing the right thing – returning to Malfoy Manor, retrieving the Grimoire – but she couldn't help but dread the impending experience.
A hand grasped her elbow and her body responded instantly, fuelled by battle honed instinct and an all too familiar surge of adrenaline. She spun on her heel, a well practiced flick of her wrist dislodging her wand from its place up her robe sleeve and slipping into her hand.
"Hermione," choked out her assailant.
She blinked once, twice, and then gasped as belated realisation hit her. "Harry?"
The wizard stood stock still, his hands raised in a placating manner as Hermione's wand tip dug forcefully into the underside of his chin.
"That is what my parents named me, or so people tell me," Harry replied, tilting his chin back to relieve the pressure from her wand.
"Oh shit." Lowering her wand from his throat, she took a step back. "I'm sorry- Fuck, I'm. I just… instinct."
Harry rubbed at his throat as he stretched his neck. Hermione winced as she took note of the red mark visible beneath the dark stubble on the underside of his chin.
"It's fine, honestly. I shouldn't have startled you like that," Harry said with a kind smile. "Anyway, I've been looking for you."
"Oh?" she responded. "Oh! Harry, last night. I'm so sorry."
Shit. With everything that had happened, she had totally forgotten about their dinner plans.
"I was worried about you when you didn't show up. I, er- I checked the map to see where you were at. Just in case, you know?" Harry said as he rubbed at the back of his neck. "I… Well, I saw you were with Malfoy. Figured the two of you were finally sorting out your issues."
Hermione felt a surge of gratitude wash over her as she realised Harry had not only trusted Malfoy in that moment, he had respected their privacy.
"I have so much to tell you, Harry," she began, shifting her school satchel on her shoulder. "But I'm going to be late for Advanced Arithmancy if I don't get going, it's all the way down on the third floor."
"I've got a free, I'll walk you down," Harry offered.
As they made their way down the corridor and navigated the obstacle of the ever-changing staircases, Hermione filled Harry in on the events of the night before. She told him everything, from Parkinson's deception, to the terror she felt in the face of the Boggart and how Malfoy had found her. She explained every detail, save for the kiss they had shared. That aspect of her relationship with Malfoy felt too new, too fragile. She wanted to nourish it, see it bloom, before they shared what they had with others.
"So McGonagall has informed me that Professor Hale has called for a disciplinary hearing with the board, they are going to decide if Parkinson should be suspended," Hermione said as they made their way down the Serpentine Corridor on the third floor.
"Good," Harry replied, the fury in his tone barely concealed. "That bitch might finally get what she deserves."
A/N: Firstly, I just wanted to thank everyone who has left a comment on this fic. Your kind words and encouragement mean so much to me. I wish I could respond to each and everyone of you individually, but unfortunately my anxiety often prevents me from doing so. Please know that they are appreciated though, every kudos and comment is fuel to the fire that is my creative process.
Unfortunately, real life has been a little stressful at the moment and I have made the decision to step back from weekly updates to fortnightly updates, at least until I get ahead of chapters again. I don't want to risk burnout and feel the need to go back into temporary hiatus, so I'd rather make the decision now to slow updates for a little while, but still post consistently.
Lots of love, LilithShade x