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As always for Sable and Lais xxx
Thud. The burnt husk of what used to be Salazar Slytherin's locket makes a dull thudding noise as Hermione drops it on Dorea's beautiful mahogany desk.
Hermione sighs heavily, shoving her matted curls back over her shoulders as she heavily plops into one of the armchairs in front of Dorea's desk. She's going to have to ask Remus to help her wash her hair later, she is far too exhausted, and it is going to be quite the tedious task.
Dorea peers curiously at the destroyed horcrux, and the scratching noise her quill had been making halts as she pauses in her writing. Dorea taps her quill against her parchment once, fixing the horcrux with a stern stare before she turns the quill around and pokes the blackened locket with the end of it. The locket makes a low, scratching sound as it moves forward a few millimetres, and Dorea's mouth twists to the side in thought.
"Is everyone alright?" Dorea asks softly, maintaining an intricate mask of calm.
"I won't lie to you...it was dreadful, but we'll all live. Alfred is attending to Harry now, Harry isn't in the...best shape, but Alfred says Harry is going to be okay," Hermione exhales in a huffy sort of fashion, and she then gulps in air as if she can't quite catch her breath.
Dorea's entire body sags in relief, she abandons her quill beside her parchment, and then presses a hand to her forehead as she falls back in her chair, "thank, Salazar."
Hermione's head lolls to the side, and she affixes her gaze upon the ruined locket, "how do you think he would have felt about Riddle desecrating his locket with such dark magic?"
Dorea scrunches up her nose as she responds, "Salazar Slytherin did dabble in some 'dark' magic himself, but magic in itself is not dark or light…not really. More so, the intent, and how the user wields it dictates whether it is…good or bad."
Hermione frowns at that, in school they were taught that there was a distinction (not even the books in the restricted section that she'd read had touched on the subject), so the concept that magic itself is not inherently good or bad is new to her.
Dorea seems to sense this, and she leans forward before she continues, animatedly gesturing with her hands as she speaks, "unfortunately for Muggleborns, we can only teach you so much in school. It isn't a slight against you or your capabilities; it's just that you have so much to learn since you aren't exposed to magic from the time you were born. Much in the same way, most magical folk are completely at a loss and out to sea when it comes to the Muggle world."
Hermione frowns at that, "so you're saying they don't properly explain some of the more subtle nuances of magic, since we don't have enough time to do so in school?"
"Basically," Dorea answers carefully. "It is the same way that blood magic is not readily discussed with you at Hogwarts, and thus, it is often seen as dangerous or 'bad'. As opposed to teaching you that magic comes with a price—especially of that magnitude—but that doesn't mean that it is evil."
"Like how creating a horcrux rips your soul in half," Hermione says reticently, her head falling back as she slumps in her chair. As much as she would like to ply Dorea for more information—more so properly contribute to this discussion—she is fatigued in every way possible; destroying horcruxes is hard work after all.
"Exactly," Dorea affirms, rapping her knuckles across the wooden surface of her desk. "Magic is a wild thing, we think there are stringent rules that it follows, and that there is specific order, but truly there isn't."
"What do you mean?"
"Magic is...alive. When we're children we often have bouts of powerful accidental magic, since we don't know how to channel or control it, but then when we go to school we then have a tool—our wands—to help focus our magic. Whilst we are learning to control and harness it, we also become dependent on our wands, and we lose touch with the natural ebbs and flows of magic," Dorea continues, frowning, as if articulating this particular concept aloud for the first time.
"Which is why it's so hard for us to learn how to do wandless and non-verbal magic?" Hermione queries, wishing that her head isn't still throbbing so she could follow this conversation a lot better. She'll have to talk to the Potter Matriarch about this more extensively at a later date.
"Precisely. You then have to break down all those rules and your dependence on your wand, you have to tap into and re-familiarise yourself with magic in its purest, rawest form. With no filter or screen so to speak."
"I'm thinking about it now, but you often opt out of using your wand," Hermione murmurs, eyes half-lidded as they stare straight at Dorea. She really wants to climb into her bed and sleep.
"I think it's my natural affinity for elemental magic—which is a priceless gift. Whether it's using elemental magic, or using weather magic it seems almost wrong with a wand. It often hinders the magic, I find. It's just...it's funny how the one thing that helps us channel and focus our magic, also hinders us from truly reaching our full potential," Dorea smiles gently, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair.
"Can you teach me?" Hermione asks, smacking her lips together, her throat feels like sandpaper is rubbing viciously across it. It would be rather convenient if she could create lightning storms like the Potter Matriarch.
Dorea grins brightly, "it would be my pleasure. I always thought that one day I would be able to pass on my gift. It's a lost magic, truly being able to control the elements and the weather."
Dorea assesses Hermione's sluggish form and asks, "when do you wish to start."
"When I don't feel like a giant has stomped on me repeatedly," Hermione croaks out with a strained smile.
"Brilliant."
After some quiet moments of thick ponderance on both witches's parts Hermione quietly states, "it's only a matter of time before he becomes aware of what we're doing. This time…this time Harry isn't connected to him…and I never thought I'd feel conflicted about that, but without that connection we are left at a disadvantage." Hermione's lips twist to the side wryly, and her nose twitches before she finishes, "we need to prepare for the worst."
Harry's lack of a connection to Voldemort leaves them waffling in the wind, poking about blindly in the dark, with no compass nor direction to truly guide them. It leaves them vulnerable. The only remnants of Tom Riddle that Harry has is that he is still a Parselmouth.
"Are you referring to the idea you shared with me last month?" Dorea asks gently, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth.
"I think it's time, we need to have options in case anything goes awry," Hermione nods, grunting as she straightens up—there is a twinge in her right shoulder, she'll have to ask Remus to take a look at it, though she probably just needs some salve and not to exert herself for a couple days.
"I'll start the preparations then," Dorea says.
"If you need any assistance just let me know, and I'll help in any way I can," Hermione offers.
"That is awfully kind of you, dear," Dorea smiles gently, uncrossing her arms and leaning forward. "Between you and I, I think we should get things sorted in no time…now, that that's settled…which one of these—" Dorea gingerly scoops up a section of the scorched chain with the first digit of her index finger, and meaningfully glances at the horcrux, "—do we go after next?"
Thursday, September 6th, 1979
Potter Manor
Full Moon
The seasons twist and change in an instant: the sweltering summer days smoothly slide into crisper evenings, and all too quickly, the leaves on the trees in the Orchards are turning a flurry of yellows, oranges and robust reds.
The impartial Mistress of the sky gleams against the inky darkness, and she is accompanied by the frosty wind as she blows, and sends a burst of leaves that have already fluttered to the ground skittering across the dry grass.
It hasn't rained in weeks, and the land is cracked and bursting at the seams with hope that the promise of rain nears as the seasons shift.
A large stag rubs his antlers against the dry bark of one of the many trees in the Orchard, whilst a doe looks on, but she is soon distracted by a Pointer dog bursting out of the darkness. Both deer skitter to the side at the sudden movement—momentarily ruled purely by instinct—but upon realising that is just their friend, they both settle.
The dog is panting heavily, and lets out a soft bark at the doe, who bows her head and nuzzles her nose against his shiny coat.
The stag resumes his scratching for a few more moments before a distant crack causes them to all still, the only sound is their erratic breathing.
Without any warning, two wolves, a large dog, and another slightly smaller stag bound into the small area, but they do not linger. They merely keep going, hooves and paws heavily hitting the dry earth as they sprint over thick roots and disappear in and amongst the closely-knit trees; and the moonlight intermittently gleams across their furs and pelts through the gaps in the canopies.
It is a silent understanding between the doe, stag and dog that they should follow. Without hesitation they chase after their pack members.
Before long they catch up, and the pack members pursue each other—to no end—around the Orchard for hours. It becomes an unnecessarily elaborate game, the Grim the most eager to win. In the end, the two wolves are victorious, there are of course no standards or rules to imply such a thing, but they all just know. The Alpha always wins. That however did not stop Padfoot from playfully challenging Moony at several points during the night.
Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, the animals end up in a tiny clearing just big enough for them to all pile on top of each other for warmth. All the tension their human counterparts are feeling melts away for a few precious hours, and for a bit, it is as if all is truly right in the world.
The conversation about magic wasn't originally as in depth as it is here, but after a recent chat with the Sirius to my Remus, hogwartsaheadcanon (she writes breathtakingly amazing things, go check them out), about how magic is this untameable, wild thing, I fleshed out that part of Dorea and Hermione's interaction.
Anyways, I hope you liked the chapter lovelies x
