Hermione hadn't expected Gellert to show up at all over the holidays, not after seeing what he'd been up to in the papers. She understood that she was one person and Gellert was virtually an army in and of himself; her parents had read the prophet to her every morning. So she knew exactly how Gellert had conjured a tiger and set it loose on a pair of death eaters in London, prevented an Azkaban breakout whilst rescuing Sirius and duelled Voldemort out of Lestrange Manor. She could hardly expect to be a priority. Even so, she had resolved not to be bitter, forcing herself to instead be grateful that he had taken time out of his busy schedule to go all the way to India just to help her.
She had thrown herself into meditating, not just to regain her sight but to hone her gift. Her mother had dutifully recorded everyone's colours, and Hermione had dictated all the similarities in colours and people. Black was obviously a damaged soul but that was as far as the she had gotten, and obviously colours had no relevance to houses with McGonagall significantly green and Malfoy yellow.
Mediatation was showing better progress – the grey was becoming lighter and if she held something very close to her face she could see a darkness. Her success in the opposite direction had been even more significant; she could see the traces of people's magic in enchantments. Gellert's blue-black magic twined heavily through the deathly hallows amulet he'd given her for Christmas, confirming her theory that it wasn't just a regular piece of jewellery.
Grindelwald knocked on the door, interrupting her latest mediation. She'd been aware of him, hearing her mother let him in and listening to the stairs creak as he climbed up to her room.
'Hi.' She said softly, padding across the room to open the door for him. Gellert hovered in the doorway and Hermione was suddenly very aware that she hadn't redecorated since she was eleven.
'I have something to do. I thought you might like to come with me.' He offered, holding out one inky hand to her.
'Where to?' She asked uncertainly.
'We need to find where a certain orphanage took their children for summer. Albus and I believe Voldemort may have hidden something there.' He answered, still holding out that hand. She was touched that he'd thought to take her with him; she couldn't go out anymore unless there was someone to take her and her parents worked full time.
She took his offered hand, surprised when he shifted her grip to his arm. She barely had a moment to take a breath before it was being squeezed out of her as though she were deep underwater without a mask. His arm twisted away from her and she clung on tightly, instinctively knowing that letting go would be a very bad idea.
Then it was over as soon as it had begun and she could breathe again, a cool breeze brushing her face and the sound of cars droning in a nearby road. She managed to maintain her balance by hanging tightly onto his arm, surprised when he offered his other hand as well.
'We just apparated, didn't we?' asked Hermione shakily.
'We did. Was that your first time?' He settled her hand on his arm in that traditional way where her hand rested in the crook of his elbow. She stifled a giggle, feeling rather silly and girlish – it was difficult to remember that Gellert was being completely serious when he did these things.
He led her a little way down the street, a gentle pressure on her hand telling her when to stop.
'Are we here?' She asked curiously, his silence telling her that this would not be as easy as she had hoped.
'I think our orphanage has been knocked down. There's an office block, perhaps 20 years old with that awful brown gravelly cladding.' He described. Hermione could picture exactly what he was looking at, having seen many of that description around the city. 'There's an old lady working in her garden just down the street, perhaps she can help.'
The friendly lady was only too happy to tell them everything she knew once Gellert had spun their sob story, although Hermione struggled to hide her distaste when he claimed they were looking for information on her grandfather. The lady invited them in, her home smelling of musty curtains and tea tree, Gellert guided her to an overstuffed armchair, then took a seat nearby. Moments later, she heard the clinking of china as a pot of aromatic tea was brought in and papery skin brushed against hers as the lady guided her hands to the teacup and a plate of biscuits.
She listened as the lady related everything she knew about the orphanage and Mister Wool who had owned it and how when Mister Wool had died nobody had wanted to run it. She listened to how terrible it was that Mr Wool's son had knocked down the old building and put those awful offices there. When Gellert asked her who the matron was, the lady was only able to tell them her name and that she had retired once the place was shut down. Hermione could only think of the children that must have lived there and how terrible it would be to be kicked out at the whim of some landowner.
Gellert seemed to take this as a dead end, she could almost hear him thinking through other methods of learning the information even as he spoke aimlessly about the council picking up the bins.
'Mrs. Mills?' Hermione asked tentatively, trying not to wince when the lady immediately began to fawn over the poor blind girl. Gellert had created her part to make the mission easier, so now she had to play it. 'Would you happen to have a white pages?'
After much praising of how clever she was, Gellert was soon flicking through the crinkly thin pages of a slightly out of date copy of the phone directory. There were three Rosemary Holloways in London, and Gellert noted down all their addresses, then they were being shooed out, the old lady handing them a biscuit to take with them and waving them off down the street.
As soon as they had rounded the corner and were out of sight, Gellert apparated them to the first place on the list. Hermione kept her balance this time, having known what to expect. They must be somewhere in the suburbs; the cars were much quieter and she could smell flowers around them. She stood on soil or grass, which was slightly spongy beneath her feet. She heard Gellert mutter a curse, followed by a gentle confundus charm. They must have been spotted by a muggle.
'Funny light in this alley.' A man muttered, the scuff of trainers on gravel starting up again as he jogged past them.
42, Penrose Street had a gate which creaked softly, then a path that led up a couple of steps to the door. A water feature tinkled somewhere nearby and their neighbours had a dog. A young woman, carrying a baby emerged from off to their right, using a path from where she assumed would be a back garden.
'Who are you?' She demanded, hostility blatant in her tone. The baby was a ball of bright yellow in her lime arms, a magical aura already surrounding it. Hermione realised with considerable surprise that she was looking at a very young muggleborn.
'Hi, I'm Hermione. I was actually trying to track down someone who worked at my grandfather's orphanage. You wouldn't know a Rosemary would you?'
The young mother told them, with no small amount of irritation that she was Rosemary and she had certainly never worked in an orphanage. The baby began to wail and they left hastily, going to the next house on the list.
This one was on a busy street, cars roaring past them. Gellert helped her up the steep stairs to the address, a pleasant sounding doorbell chiming as he pressed the button. The lady at the door certainly wasn't young, by her voice, and was almost certainly a smoker. A heavy odour of stale cigarettes washed through the doorway but the welcome that was croaked at them was at least tentatively friendly.
This was their Rosemary Holloway, she recalled the orphanage fondly having worked there for over thirty years, first as a matron, then running it for the rest of career. She remembered Tom Riddle only briefly, as a name in passing, often mentioned by the other matrons because of that strange school he'd been to. Rosemary was only too happy to tell them that the village they usually visited on holiday was called Ogmore-By-Sea.
Apparently there were hundreds of caves near there, but Gellert didn't seem at all daunted by that, bidding farewell to Rosemary and apparating them to Wales. Perhaps it was due to so many apparitions in such a short period but Hermione was beginning to feel decidedly queasy.
'How will we know which cave?' Hermione asked as Gellert led her up an almost silent little street. A brisk breeze whipped her hair around her face and sent her skirt billowing around her legs.
'It will be the ones the muggles have forgotten about.' He replied jovially, turning them aside and into a building she could recognise by the sound alone. The gentle hush was one of people trying to be quiet rather than of absence and the warmth that you could only find in a library, paired with the faint scent of plastic covers overlaying well loved paper. Gellert took them up to the desk, asking the lady if there was an old map of caves along the coast.
There was, several options in fact. He asked to see all of them.
'Riddle will have cast all kinds of charms on the cave; the chances are the muggles will have noticed the difference, without actually noticing it.' Gellert explained, falling silent as the librarian returned with several fusty smelling books.
'This one here is a military map from the 1940's. The army surveyed the cave system thoroughly then to use should the Germans invade.' She unrolled the paper, dust wafting into the air and Hermione coughed. 'This next one is a 1960's, by a group prospectors searching for copper.' She opened a book this time, flicking through pages until she reached what was presumably their area. 'This chapter covers the town, you'll find the other chapters move up and down the coast.' The next book was a modern tour guide, and the lady didn't bother to explain that one, just leaving them be.
'Obliviate.' Gellert said, jabbing his wand in her direction. Then he swept up all the materials and stood up.
'You're stealing them!' Hermione hissed, outraged as the dark wizard went to leave. He let his head fall back, perhaps forgetting that she could still see his silhouette and sighed.
'You can't honestly expect me to study them all here? The librarian won't even remember they're missing.' He didn't even seem to understand what the problem was.
'These are important documents to this town.' She went to storm over to him but clipped the table, swearing and cluthing her bruised hip, her face burning.
'Honestly, nobody's looked at them in years.' He dismissed, swanning out of the library. She felt blindly for the edge of the table, guiding herself around it and hurrying after him.
'It's not right.' She insisted as she caught up with him. He flicked his hand and a tendril of his black magic fried the detectors at the door. 'Those will be really expensive to replace too! Gellert you can't just do that.'
'Fine, I'll return them once I'm done.' He snapped, grabbing her arm and apparating before she could say another word. She gasped for breath when they landed, pinching the stitch that had developed in her side.
'That doesn't make up for the machinery you just destroyed. You could have just asked to borrow them!'
'They'll manage.' He said bluntly. 'Thank you for your assistance.'
Gellert strode from the room without another word, leaving Hermione seething in her room. She took her flip-flops off, hurling them across the room in frustration. They hit the wall with a dissatisfying thud.