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It had been a truly beautiful day. The sky was free from a single cloud. The sun was beating warm on the sorrow laden faces of everyone present. The grass was fresh and smelled freshly cut. It could not have been a better day.
It could not have been a better day, if it had not been the day of Albus Dumbledore's funeral.
The bell tower tolled with grief into a sky of silence. Fawkes the Phoenix had flown off into the sun after leaving them all with the world's saddest lament. No words had been spoken - and no words would be. What could one say about the death of the World's Greatest Wizard at such a precarious time?
Hermione Granger was never good at funerals. She didn't cry when people had made eulogies, and she didn't say goodbye when caskets were lowered into the ground. She looked to her two best friends, Harry and Ron, and saw the pain riddled across their faces. Harry, with tears running down his cheeks, was particularly struck by the pain of the loss. Ron has seemed to be more hurt at the idea of Harry's anguish.
Hermione? She grieved the loss of a mind that could help them overcome the horrors that were very quickly bubbling to the surface. Between the time of Dumbledore's death and the funeral, Harry had disclosed to her and Ron that Voldemort was in possession of several Horcruxes - a word she had never heard of before. Apparently, Voldemort had made himself practically immortal by splitting his soul into tangible objects and hid them across the Wizarding World - and there were only a few ways to destroy them.
It had been Harry's plan to leave Hogwarts and hunt these Horcruxes after Bill and Fleur's wedding later this summer. He had originally intended to depart on his own, but Hermione and Ron balked at the idea. There was simply no way they would allow him to go this journey on his own. If not because they were best friends, then because he would likely blow the whole operation.
So, naturally, Hermione had been brushing up on her reading in the few weeks since Harry had shared that with them. In the several books she had read, she found one to be particularly useful: Wishful Wizarding Wonders . She had nicked it from the Restricted Section earlier last year as a fun read, but now she found it to be rather useful.
The book itself was full of fluff and drivel, but there were some sections that outlined potions, spells, and items that would be very useful in key situations. One item in particular caught her eye.
The Wisdom Wishbone
Crafted by former Headmistress of Hogwarts, Elizabeth Burke, from the clavicle of a Phoenix, the Wisdom Wishbone is an artifact that grants those who possess it unadulterated cleverness and wisdom in all their endeavours. As is tradition, this heirloom has been passed down from Headmaster to Headmaster, and shall be for the rest of time.
Be careful with whom you break the bone - a bond for life might cause you endless strife.
Under normal circumstances, Hermione would have felt awful at having to end such a sacred tradition. However, once she had heard Severus Snape had been appointed the new Headmaster, she felt more and more like he didn't deserve to possess such a powerful tool. On top of that, she knew that this was something that could help the trio as they went about their journey.
"You alright?" A nasally voice asked. Hermione snapped back into the present as her eyes shifted to Harry's. Where his were red and swollen, hers simply pricked with tears.
"No," she said as she folded her arms over each other and grabbed at the sleeves of her jumper. "But I'm no worse than anyone else here."
That seemed to satisfy Harry, as he reached out and pulled her into a hug. She returned the embrace and caught Ron looking at her over Harry's shoulder. The moment was suddenly tense.
Pulling away, Hermione cleared her throat and said, "I'm going to give it one last look around. I'm not so sure when I'll be back." And that was part way the truth.
"I'll come with you, Hermione," Ron offered as he took a solemn step forward. "I think it would be good for us."
Hermione knew she had to decline, but part of her wanted to be doing just what she had said she was. "Let's meet at the Great Hall," she said. "I think I just need to do this on my own for now." Harry and Ron gave her perturbed looks. "It's how I need to process everything. For me," she said, and that was enough to get them to back off.
As she turned away from the funeral and headed back towards the castle, her mind was too focused on not being followed that she hadn't at all realized that she was being watched.
Draco Malfoy had been stuck in a cold, dingy room in the dungeons since that night up at the Astronomy Tower.
Do it, Draco. Now , his Aunt had demanded with venom pierced in her words.
His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to erase the image of Dumble- of him getting struck square in the chest with blinding green light. A curse that had definitely not come from his wand. A memory seared into his brain of his ultimate failure to bring honor back to his family.
After Severus Snape followed through where he could not, the dark clothed man grabbed him by the back of his collar like he was a lion cub and yanked him around the corner.
This is how it was always going to go, Draco. Come with me.
How it was always going to go. How it was not even a question to anyone involved that he would fail to snub out the old coots light. That he was just what everyone everywhere had thought - that he, Draco Malfoy, was nothing but a coward.
Snape had taken Draco deep down into the dungeons, nowhere near where the Slytherin Common Room was. There he conjured a hidden door and unlocked it.
Get in now. I have no time to explain at the moment, but if you are not foolish and wish to live, you will stay put. Understood?
The room Draco was in had a small kitchenette, a loveseat, and a four-poster queen sized bed. There was a bathroom attached but, again, it was nothing to write home about. Not that he could write home about anything.
Apparently, there was a bit of a bounty on Draco's head at the moment - from both sides. On one side, he was the boy who let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts - who compromised the safety of his classmates and who is responsible for the death of their beloved Headmaster. On the other side, he was the foolish child who couldn't follow through to do it himself - showing a true lack of loyalty to his master.
His safest bet was to stay put in the dungeon until the war was over. Until there was policies in place to deal with the consequences of his actions in a manner that didn't involve torture or death.
Naturally, Draco couldn't help but push the limits of his imprisonment. While students were still at home, he found himself wandering the castle, attempting to sneak into the other houses' Common Rooms, testing permanently locked doors, and simply just keeping himself from going crazy. He had yet to be caught.
Today was a different day. Today, Draco looked out the window and saw more people at Hogwarts than he'd seen in weeks. Today, he'd noticed a casket out in the yard. Today, he'd caught sight of the three people he detested most in this world.
Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger.
His anger took hold of him as he watched from a far off window in seething rage. They mourned and they cried. Dumbledore's stupid burning bird flew off into the sun after singing the most mundane song he'd heard in ages. He thought it would have been an instant change from light to dark when the Headmaster was killed. Draco would be celebrated by his people, and the blood traitors and Mudbloods would be too frightened to be out in public. But here they were. Openly mourning.
His eyes fell to Hermione Granger. She seemed out of place. No tears, no body language of mourning. Instead, it seemed as though she were planning something. She kept looking back at the castle - casing out the entrances with quick glances. What was she planning?
He witnessed an embrace between the Mudblood and Potter that made his stomach turn. However, things started to get interesting as he witnessed her walking away from them. Towards the castle. He knew she had been planning something.
Draco leapt off of his perch and cast a swift Disillusionment Charm to avoid being seen in the halls. He was going to see what the little witch was up to.
When Hermione finally got to the Headmaster's office, she noticed that the staircase had been open. This was unusual - typically, it required a password for entry. She pondered if it was unlocked for mourning purposes. Her mind didn't linger on the thought as she made her way quietly and quickly up the stairs.
The office was not going to make it easy to find the Wishbone - Dumbledore had had an awful habit of collecting every gizmo he could get his hands on. Hermione had searched his desk thoroughly, unable to find it. She was exasperated.
She searched his cabinets, his wardrobe, his hidden compartments Harry had told her about and she still came up empty handed. Her frustration was building to a peaking level. She laughed in exasperation and flicked her wand.
"Accio Wishbone!" She exclaimed. She had simply meant to do it out of frustration, and had not expected it to be a fruitful effort. However, as an eggshell colored bone came whipping towards her, she caught it in shock.
Upon careful examination, Hermione was able to confirm that this was, in fact, the Wisdom Wishbone. With all her relief, she allowed giddiness to wash over her. She jumped in excitement and twirled around. That is she saw him. He was too quick. A flash of black and blond. And he was on her.
Draco Malfoy had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. His hand wrapped around one side of the Wishbone.
"You, " she sneered as her grip tightened. Her instinct was to hit him, but she knew if she did that she would lose the artifact.
"Yes, you ," he mocked. "Sticky fingers, Granger? Not surprised - I've always known Mudbloods were thieves." He gave the Wishbone a tug, and it gave a little. Neither of them noticed.
"Well, being a thief ," she spat, "is far better than being a murderer." She gave a tug from her end. Another give. "A failed one, at that."
Draco flooded with anger. He continued to grip the Wishbone with one hand and with the other shoved Hermione on the shoulder.
It cracked.
Both Hermione and Draco went flying back - Hermione falling to the ground because of the shove and Draco staggering back.
'Stupid little Mudblood. Waste of breath, waste of life.'
Hermione faltered and her eyes widened in shock as the sickening thoughts entered her mind. It was his voice. She saw the same shock on his face as she thought, 'Can I read his mind? Or am I going crazy?'
'I must be asleep - and having the world's worst nightmare.'
'I must have hit my head pretty hard when I fell. Can the Wishbone work when it is broken?'
"What does this thing do?" Draco asked, as if her thoughts had been out loud. 'Must be a result of being stuck in this prison for so long.'
"Wait - can you," Hermione began, "Are you hearing me in your mind?"
Draco's head snapped when she asked this. Was she hearing what he was too, but his thoughts?
"Yes," she said. She gulped. "We broke the Wishbone."
Draco was speechless. Good thing he didn't need to speak for Granger to get out more words. "We're bonded by our minds now. Are you happy?"
Please let me know what you think and if you are at all interested in seeing more! I will be posting regardless :)