"Wow, scary thought, the boy Voldemort," said Ron quietly, as they took their places around one of the gnarled Snargaluff stumps that formed this term's project during Herbology that morning, and began pulling on their protective gloves. "But I still don't get why Dumbledore's showing you all this. I mean, it's really interesting and everything, but what's the point?"
"Dunno," said Harry, inserting a gum shield. "But he says it's all important, and it'll help me survive."
"I think it's fascinating," said Hermione earnestly. "It makes absolute sense to know as much about Voldemort as possible. How else will you find out his weaknesses?"
Harry didn't fill them in on his session with Dumbledore until now. Hermione reckoned that he didn't want to be overheard, which she'd understand. The same reason why she didn't speak up at breakfast about the realization she had after she read The Tales of the Three Brothers. If Harry's Cloak was a product of Death itself…?
"So, how was Slughorn's latest party?" Harry asked her thickly through the gum shield, interrupting her thoughts.
"Oh, it was quite fun, really," said Hermione, now putting on protective goggles. "I mean, he drones on about famous exploits a bit, and he absolutely fawns on McLaggen because he's so well connected, but he gave us some really nice food, and he introduced us to Gwenog Jones."
"Gwenog Jones?" said Ron, his eyes widening under his own goggles. "The Gwenog Jones? Captain of the Holyhead Harpies?"
"That's right," said Hermione. "Personally, I thought she was a bit full of herself, but -"
"Quite enough chat over here!" said Professor Sprout briskly, bustling over and looking stern. "You're lagging behind, everybody else has started, and Neville's already got his first pod!"
They looked around; sure enough, there sat Neville with a bloody lip and several nasty scratches along the side of his face but clutching an unpleasantly pulsating green object about the size of a grapefruit.
"Okay, Professor, we're starting now!" said Ron, adding quietly, when she had turned away again, "Should've used Muffliato, Harry."
"No, we shouldn't!" said Hermione at once. For Merlin's sake, if Harry doesn't detach himself from that book…? Morbidly, she wondered if this was the case of Ginny and Tom Riddle's Diary. That it was hard for her to detach from the book. She might have to ask Ginny later. "Well, come on ... we'd better get going..."
They all took deep breaths and then dived at the gnarled stump between them.
It sprang to life at once; long, prickly, bramble-like vines flew out of the top and whipped through the air. One tangled itself in Hermione's hair, and Ron beat it back with a pair of secateurs; Harry succeeded in trapping a couple of vines and knotting them together; a hole opened in the middle of all the tentacle-like branches; Hermione plunged her arm bravely into this hole, which closed like a trap around her elbow; Harry and Ron tugged and wrenched at the vines, forcing the hole to open again, and Hermione snatched her arm free, clutching in her fingers a pod just like Neville's. At once, the prickly vines shot back inside, and the gnarled stump sat there looking like an innocently dead lump of wood.
"You know, I don't think I'll be having any of these in my garden when I've got my own place," said Ron, pushing his goggles up onto his forehead and wiping sweat from his face.
"Pass me a bowl," said Hermione, holding the pulsating pod at arm's length; Harry handed one over, and she dropped the pod into it, crinkling her nose in disgust at the mere sight of it.
"Don't be squeamish; squeeze it out; they're best when they're fresh!" called Professor Sprout.
"Anyway," said Hermione, getting her bearings and continuing their conversation that had been interrupted by the attacking Snargaluff, "Slughorn's going to have a Christmas party, Harry, and there's no way you'll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come."
Ron, who was attempting to burst the pod in the bowl by putting both hands on it, standing up, and squashing it as hard as he could, retorted, "And this is another party just for Slughorn's favorites, is it?"
"Just for the Slug Club, yes," said Hermione. Perhaps she shouldn't blame Ron for his resentment. Professor Slughorn may be a good teacher, though his brushing off of Ron wasn't the most tactful decision.
Ron's nose crinkled in disgust, and she thought he heard him gag out, "What a stupid name for a stupid and pretentious club."
"Look, I didn't make up the name 'Slug Club' -" she started
"'Slug Club,'" repeated Ron with a sneer worthy of Malfoy. "It's pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don't you try hooking up with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug -"
"We're allowed to bring guests," said Hermione, feeling the blood race to her face and hands, "and I was going to ask you to come, but if you think it's that stupid, then I won't bother!"
As if you had not been cozying up to Lavender, she thinks with indignation.
"You were going to ask me?" asked Ron, in a completely different voice.
"Yes," said Hermione angrily. "But obviously, if you'd rather I hooked up with McLaggen..."
I might as well ask Malfoy, she thinks spitefully. He couldn't be any worse than McLaggen.
"No, I wouldn't," said Ron, in a hushed voice.
Crash!
Hermione and Ron were bought out of their conversation to see that the pod that they were handling had shattered the pot. "Reparo!" said Harry, pointing his wand at the pieces of the shattered pot. The bowl sprang back together again, and not wanting to give away that she'd spent that time arguing with Ron, Hermione rifled through her copy of Flesh-Eating Trees of the World to find out the correct way to juice Snargaluff pods.
"Hand that over, Harry," said Hermione hurriedly. "It says we're supposed to puncture them with something sharp..."
Hermione didn't bring up Professor Slughorn's upcoming Christmas party again. It had already put Ron in a foul mood. Not to mention it was a distraction from their assignment in front of them. It seemed to have alienated Harry as well.
When they trooped from the greenhouse – all protective gear taken off and stored away – Hermione made sure Neville was out of earshot when she asked, "Did you at least mention it to Dumbledore? About Voldemort being after something powerful?"
"I thought about it, but then…." Harry sighed. "I figured he would send me to Snape for Occlumency. He seemed to have no problem that it was Snape that treated Katie instead of Madam Pomfrey."
"Professor Snape is the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Hermione had challenged, the blood reaching her face. "Of course, it would be his area of expertise. That was a particularly dark object that Katie was exposed to."
"Dumbledore had said something similar," said Harry. "Have you gotten an idea what Voldemort could be after?"
She didn't very much appreciate that Harry had changed the subject. However, this was something that Hermione had desired to tell Harry and Ron ever since breakfast. "It didn't quite register with me when I first read it," Hermione admitted. "I initially thought it was a load of rubbish."
"What made you reconsider that it wasn't?" Ron asked.
"Have you read Tales of Beedle the Bard before?" Hermione had asked when they reached the castle.
"Not all the stories," Ron had admitted. "The Tale of the Three Brothers had given me nightmares just one time after reading it once."
"If Harry's Invisibility Cloak is Death's Cloak, what's to say that Voldemort isn't after Death's Wand," she asked in a whisper when a throng of fourth-year Slytherins had passed them by. They seemed too immersed in whatever they talking about, but she didn't want to run the risk of them telling someone whose parent is in league with Voldemort.
"Think you can explain it more free period?" Harry had asked her.
Hermione had obliged, and during that free period started, Hermione and her two friends chose a corner in the Gryffindor tower ("Muffliato" incanted Ron, resulting in Hermione glaring at Ron for a moment before turning to the book).
"There were once three brothers," Hermione had started, "who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too treacherous to pass. But being learned in the magical arts, the three brothers simply waved their wands and made a bridge.
"Before they could cross, however, they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. It was Death, and he felt cheated. Cheated because travelers would normally drown in the river.
"But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers on their magic and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.
"The oldest asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. So Death fashioned him one from an elder tree that stood nearby. The second brother decided he wanted to humiliate Death even further and asked for the power to recall loved ones from the grave. So Death plucked a stone from the river and offered it to him.
"Finally, Death turned to the third brother. A humble man, he asked for something that would allow him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And so it was that Death reluctantly handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.
"The first brother traveled to a distant village where, with the Elder Wand in hand, he killed a wizard with whom he had once quarreled. Drunk with the power that the Elder Wand had given him, he bragged of his invincibility. But that night, another wizard stole the wand and slit the brother's throat for good measure. And so Death took the first brother for his own.
"The second brother journeyed to his home, where he took the stone and turned it thrice in hand. To his delight, the girl he'd once hoped to marry before her untimely death appeared before him. Yet, soon she turned sad and cold, for she did not belong in the mortal world. Driven mad with hopeless longing, the second brother killed himself so as to join her. And so Death took the second brother.
"As for the third brother, Death searched for many years but was never able to find him. Only when he attained a great age did the youngest brother shed the Cloak of Invisibility and give it to his son. He then greeted Death as an old friend and went with him gladly departing this life as equals."
When Hermione had finished reading the story, she turned to see how Harry and Ron were processing all that information. Harry, it seemed, was trying to think it all over. Ron, on the other hand, it was as if a lightbulb went off in his head.
"It would all make sense now," said Ron, turning to Harry. "You know that your heirloom Cloak hasn't faded off in years like most others have."
"I don't know, I mean if…." Harry drifts off, cupping his jaw in his hand as if in thought. "There has to be more. I can't see Voldemort simply going by just this book alone."
"Exactly," Hermione concurred with a nod to her head as she closed the book. "You can lift that spell now, Ron."
Even if she had to look in the library again, at least she had a foundation to go on.
At Transfiguration, Hermione could see that Malfoy was worse for wear. To say he was ill was an understatement. Almost as if he had been through something that was excruciatingly painful.
Unless he had left school grounds, Hermione didn't rule out that perhaps Voldemort had embedded a Cruciatus Curse or something similar in his letter expressing his ire to Malfoy.
She had waited until Ron and Harry had left the classroom before slowly approaching Malfoy, who was slowly gathering his papers and textbook. "Would you like to see Madam Pomfrey, Malfoy?" she had offered. "You don't look too well."
Malfoy hesitates. Failing to hide a wince as he picks up his messenger bag. "It's nothing that I can't handle, Granger," he answers, trying to manage his signature smirk. Though she could see that it was slightly pained. "See you tonight, Granger."
Perhaps as this was going in a different direction than the one that she had expected, maybe they could spend that Wednesday free period in the Room of Requirement instead. Then she might be closer to seeing the real reason why Malfoy has to fix that Cabinet.
When Draco had gotten to the Room of Requirement that night, Granger was the first to meet him. Just like the last time.
"I also thought if we can spend Wednesday free periods here instead of the library," she offered.
Perhaps Granger took note that he could care less about his schoolwork. Draco still found himself taken aback by her offer. He did not expect Hermione Granger, of all people, to sacrifice a free period of keeping up with her homework just to help him.
"That's an hour lost right there for you to keep up with the workload," he pointed out.
"Don't you want me to help you?" she asks with a frown.
"It's not that," he corrects, tossing that green apple in the air. "I'm just surprised that the girl that's the top of her class would sacrifice more time on her studies for this."
"Well, seeing as how you never turned in your Transfiguration homework twice in a row…" she drifts off as they approached the covered cabinet.
"True." Draco lifts the white cloth from the Vanishing Cabinet. Not oblivious to Granger pulling out a volume titled How-Tos of Fixing Magical Objects as he opens the door. No doubt to refer to it should it not work this time.
He swallows as he closes the door. Feeling his blood pulsing in his ears as he takes out his wand. "Harmonia Nectre Passus. Harmonia Nectre Passus."
At the sound of the apple vanishing into nothingness, Draco opens the door.
"It's gone," Hermione observed.
"Doesn't mean that it's fixed," he pointed out, closing the door. "I had Vince go in it one time before that Hogsmeade visit. Wasn't quite able to get to the other side, even if he felt as if he was at the other end."
Granger nodded, and as usual, a plethora of thoughts was most likely going through that head of hers. When he opens the Vanishing Cabinet again, he notices that someone on the other side must have eaten out of the apple.
"Well, what do you know?" he muses, turning the bitten apple in his hands. "Someone must have been hungry enough to just take one bite."
"Now, let's see…." Granger turns the pages of the book splayed on her palm. Muttering to herself before taking out her wand. "Reparo Revelio."
Seeing the Cabinet glow a faint blue for a few seconds did Draco nearly lose the feeling in his legs. He had failed to fix it, again. Breathing heavily, he runs one of his hands through his hair. "Can't this bloody thing fix itself?" Draco rasped, the blood reaching his face.
"Malfoy, look, I think there is something in here that we can work with," he can hear her say over the pounding of his ears.
"How can I be sure that it won't bloody fail like the last few times?" he demanded through gritted teeth. "For nearly a month, I've been trying to fix the bloody thing with no significant progress! What progress I do get is minimal that sometimes I don't notice!"
Draco kicks over the nearest stack of books out of frustration and takes deep breathes. Keep calm, he thinks, keep calm. He waits until the blood isn't pumping as hard in his ears as he turns his gaze to Granger. Who's standing there frozen with the book open in her hands.
"Well, unless we try," she says. "It's not the end of the world, is it?"
"It would be if I don't get this thing fixed before the Christmas holidays," he says with a snort, trying to come off as humorous. No matter how shallow it was. Draco was confident that a minute or two of the Cruciatus Curse courtesy of the Dark Lord waited for him when he returned to the Manor come Christmas holidays.
"Have you been using that same method for a month to fix it?" she had asked.
"What does it look like?" he retorts. Draco had indeed tried to find other things that could have sped up the process. Wasting no time in the library, but what he found was beyond his expertise, and can take time to even learn the skill to attempt it. Runes never interested him, and he wasn't going to try to take his time to learn it just to fix the Cabinet. "Doesn't mean that I didn't look. There's a method involving Runes, but it would take double the time just to learn it. Runes isn't my area of expertise."
Not even the Dark Lord's expertise in that area could sway him to pique his interest.
"Runes," she whispers. "Of course," she continues louder before going through the book again. "I thought I saw something in here about employing Runes."
Despite having been around her on Wednesdays, Draco had the feeling that he was getting a firsthand taste of what Potter and Weasley experience when in her vicinity. He could not imagine having to see her suddenly go back to something she read earlier as if prompted by something or another.
She probably gave those two a run for their money.
"Do you always live like this?" Draco couldn't help but ask.
"Live like what?" she demanded, not looking up from her book. Of bloody course.
"Run and try to read something in a book at the spur of the moment like this," Draco clarifies. "Aren't you supposed to be 'the Brightest Witch of the Class'?"
"It's called being human, Malfoy," Granger retorts in annoyance, looking up at him once. "I'm not some compu – oh, never mind that analogy. It's not as if you'll understand it."
If it was related to anything about Muggles, of bloody course, he wouldn't understand it. He wasn't part of that world and didn't have any intention of being part of it.
"…runes can be employed for the repair, though it would require O.W.L to N.E.W.T level," expertise," Granger read off. "Well, I received an O.W.L for Study of Ancient Runes, so that shouldn't be a challenge."
Draco had a feeling where this was going. "You're considering to fix the Cabinet by using Ancient Runes," he'd deduced. He wasn't sure what to make with this.
On the one hand, he had felt a wave of irritation. Yes, he was allowed to receive aid should he need it, but the way she handled this as if this were a group project…this was pushing it and something he'd no doubt get in trouble for.
On the other hand, if this method using the Ancient Runes would work in place of his current approach, he'd take it. He didn't know it unless he had tried it, right? It's not like he could afford to wait any longer.
"It might work better than what you're doing," Granger had proposed.
Deciding that he couldn't afford to continue past the Christmas holiday, Draco had nodded. "Yeah, it's something that we could try," he conceded. "Who knows, it might even work."
That was all that Hermione needed.
Malfoy had seemed willing to try what she had suggested. A little too willing, if she might say. If he's that desperate to fix this Vanishing Cabinet before Christmas…
"Yeah, he's desperate," Harry said when she had shared it with him during History of Magic. "As if what happened with Katie wasn't enough indication?"
"Can you use Runes to fix objects?" Ron had asked at her other side. "Part of me still doesn't know about this. It could open a can of worms."
Hermione can see this sentiment. If using a runic method to fix the Cabinet worked, it would enable Malfoy to do what he was tasked to do by Voldemort. Maybe it would have been best not to engage with him in this matter. Though she supposed that getting any closer to what he was up to still had its risks.
When the clock struck the free period after lunch, Hermione had bought along with her copies of Advanced Rune Translation and Rune Dictionary to the Room of Requirement. She had to refrain from letting out a chuckle at Malfoy's widened eyes when he saw the books.
"Why would you bring two?" he had asked. "Isn't this rather excessive?"
"Oh please, this is tame when you see my usual book load," Hermione couldn't help but retort. Her usual book haul is like five to seven books. This was tame compared to that.
"I suppose it would be, as you practically live in the library," Malfoy retorts with a roll of his eyes. "No wonder it was easy for Krum to ask you for the Yule Ball two years ago."
"Well, I wasn't throwing myself at his feet, of course." Hermione flips through the pages of Advanced Rune Translation. She had gone over this tome in the summer before, so she had an idea what passage to look for. "Here it is," she murmured. "Runes for healing and repair. For the best results, use a few of these runes once three weeks in a row."
"That's nearly a month," he says, almost as if it was longer than what he had hoped for.
"It's before Christmas, isn't it?" Hermione pointed out. "Now, which runes do you want to work with?"
Malfoy put his finger to his chin. As if he was stroking an imaginary beard. "Certainly, there is a rune to connect two similar objects," he says. "He wants me to connect a pathway between two Vanishing Cabinets."
Actually, there was a rune for just that.
Blaise Zabini didn't have to frequent the library too much for it to be his favorite room in the school. True, he liked reading; however, he wouldn't hear the gossip or any other ridiculous nonsense from some of his house mates. Here, he could study and read in peace.
He could see that Malfoy and Granger weren't here as they usually would have been. Blaise figured that he'd might ask Malfoy about it.
"Oh, hello, Blaise," greeted that airy and dreamy voice just as he pulled a copy of The Dark Eleven Years fromthe shelf. "Reading something interesting?"
It was her. Her dark blonde hair was held back in a ponytail, and the radishes dangling from her ears as always. The latter, which prompted Pansy and her friends to giggle at in derision.
"Oh, well, boning up on my history, you might say," he had answered. In truth, he might have read this or books like this a few times in the past. However, Blaise felt the need to reread this again. To see if what was going on right now outside Hogwarts was just as bad or worse as it had back then. Perhaps it was worse, for there was no record that anyone was attacked at Hogwarts or at Hogsmeade during the first war.
"The war didn't end the first time," Lovegood mused, her eyes gazing at the title on the binding.
"What makes you think it didn't?" he asks, raising a eyebrow.
"The same people are fighting each other," she clarified. "You-Know-Who still has the same goals as he did. The war just resumed itself after what happened at the Department of Mysteries. Those fourteen years was just a reprieve."
She's dafter than that of a Mountain Troll, Draco would say when she would enter their line of sight or come up in a conversation. Laelia Carrow might snigger that this was her oddball logic speaking.
Yet, Blaise couldn't help but feel drawn to her. Perhaps it was her serene personality or that she wasn't afraid of what others had thought of her. "If she believes shite like Nargles or other nonsense, why did she get Sorted into Ravenclaw?" Denmore had asked one time. Except that Blaise didn't think that the Sorting Hat could make mistakes, and the unusual level of perceptiveness that she had just displayed showed that she pretty much qualified as an eagle.
"Well, I'll be off," she said with a smile before turning away.
Blaise was just glad that Theo or Draco wasn't here. Otherwise, he wouldn't hear the end of it from those bloody tossers.