The blaring ring of her alarm clock jolted Hermione awake. Holding her hand to her head she groggily clambered out of bed. She felt she hadn't slept at all and had a hard time differentiating between her vivid dreams and the events preceding them. Splashing water on her face and tying her hair up in a messy bun, she began brushing her teeth. She made a mental note of things she had to do at work, like ordering more boomslang skin, counting inventory, restocking the back shelves and—oh dear Merlin!
Her head snapped up to the mirror. Her eyes widened, her toothbrush fell, hanging limply from her mouth as she stared at her reflection. In the heat of the moment, she had forgotten all about her job responsibilities. Mr Trestle was going to be short-staffed if she suddenly left without so much as a day's notice. Hurrying to get dressed, she threw on whatever she found lying about and ran to the apparition point to get to work.
Hermione was practically out of breath when she pulled open the doors to the apothecary. Mr Trestle was behind the counter fiddling with the register.
"Mr Trestle!" she said panting.
He glanced up, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Hermione dear, what on earth is the matter?"
"Mr Trestle, I'm so sorry, I have some urgent news—a family matter—you understand—I can't say how long really but—"
"Slow down," he said calmly coming round the counter with a worried frown. She watched as the elderly wizard removed his glasses and wiped them with a kerchief from his pocket. "Now," he started slowly. "If this is about your work with Mr Malfoy, he assured me you'd only be gone a day—"
"A day!" she baulked. "Wait—" When had Lucius had the time to speak with her employer? She'd only signed the contract late last night. And why had he informed Mr Trestle she'd only be gone a day? Casually she asked, "Am I to understand that Mr Malfoy sent you an owl this morning?"
Mr Trestle's frown deepened. "No, I believe it was," he paused, his eyes crinkling in thought, "almost two… three weeks ago that he told me you'd be unavailable on the 1st of May—that's tomorrow, isn't it? I was quite shocked by his proposal! Most unexpected thing!"
Her mouth fell open but she composed herself quickly. "I'm sorry, I'm just surprised he told you the reason. I thought it was a matter of some secrecy."
A smile split the old wizard's haggard face. "I imagine it is… I'm quite envious, in fact. I wish I'd been invited to review the Malfoy family's personal collection of apothecary texts! How generous of him to open up his library to the public."
Her mouth fell open for a second time, and she quickly snapped it shut. "Yes," she said smiling through clenched teeth. "How generous indeed."
The bell over the door tinkled, announcing their first customer.
"Right then," he smiled. "Let's get a start to the day shall we? I'll take the early-riser. Give you time to…" he looked her up and down. Hermione followed his gaze. Her buttons were unevenly done and she was wearing her muggle running shoes. "Freshen up," he finished.
Embarrassed she went into the storeroom where they kept their inventory and redressed. Stepping out she steeled herself for what might possibly be her last day working at the apothecary. The minutes seemed to drag on till eleven-thirty. She watched the clock with foreboding. She still hadn't managed to quite figure out what Lucius Malfoy was up to. Hopefully, once she spoke to Harry, she'd have an idea. During her lunch break, she'd apparate to the Ministry to speak to him.
When the clock struck twelve she let Mr Trestle know she was going on her lunch break. Grabbing her bag, she made to leave when the door swung open and she almost collided into—
"Harry!" — "Hermione!"
They were both flustered talking over each other, pausing and beginning at the same time. Hermione clamped her hand over his mouth. "Okay," she huffed. "You first."
Harry took her by the arm and dragged her to the back of the apothecary. Taking a deep breath he asked, "Did you sign?"
Hermione nodded. "How did you know?"
"There was a letter on my desk at the Ministry when I arrived for work this morning. I couldn't believe it! Why did you sign?"
"Why did you!" she demanded back. "And why didn't you tell me—how long have you been keeping this a secret?"
He shuffled his feet, averting his eyes. "I wanted to… but I… I'm legally bound not to divulge any information about the expedition or anything in relation to it. I physically can't even if I wanted to. Every time I try to tell anyone I..." He opened his mouth, gaping, looking very much like a fish out of water. "See—nothing!"
Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "But Harry people aren't that daft. They're going to realize our absence. This could take up to months—"
"Months!" Harry's eyes were incredulous and dancing across her face. "What are you talking about?" he exclaimed. "I was told it was a short trip and I'd be back within the day."
She ground her teeth, her blood boiling. "That's funny," she hissed. "He told Mr Trestle as much three weeks ago—expect I only agreed to this last night which means whatever he's up to, he's been plotting it for months!"
Harry's eyes seemed to focus with resolve. "I think we ought to pay Lucius Malfoy a visit."
"Agreed."
Together they made their way to the front of the apothecary and they were almost out the front door when Mr Trestle stopped Hermione. "Oh good," he said, "I thought you'd already left—hello, Harry—your friend stopped by looking for you. Said she'd be waiting for you at Rosario's for lunch."
Hermione turned to Harry. "Well, don't look at me. I'm here and I'm not a girl."
"Do you mean Ginny?" she asked.
He pushed his glasses up, wrinkling his nose. "Most definitely not Ginny Weasley. I'm senile but not that far gone as yet to forget little Ginny—no this particular witch, I didn't recognize. Oh really Hermione, you ought to know better than I, she's your friend."
"Of course," she said plastering another fake smile on her face. Grabbing Harry's arm, she tugged him toward the door. "Thanks. See you in forty Mr Trestle."
He raised his hand and gave a feeble wave goodbye to them both. "See you my dear—Harry!
"Where are we going?" demanded Harry.
"Rosario's, of course. It's only a five-minute walk from here. Come on, let's go!"
As she had promised, they reached the restaurant within minutes but when Hermione looked round she couldn't recognize a single face. There were only a few patrons dining inside, the majority were sitting outside enjoying the good weather.
Before Hermione could express her frustration she felt a delicate hand on her shoulder. She turned around, anticipating to find a friendly face. Instead, she was confronted by a tall slender witch with a pale complexion and hair as black as midnight. Her dark eyes fluttered between her and Harry, and when she spoke she had a thick accent.
"Hello Hermione Granger, my name is Sorina, and I believe you are, none other than, the infamous Harry Potter." With a graceful hand, she summoned them to follow. For some reason, they did, obligingly. "I've reserved a table inside for the three of us," she explained. "I thought it would be best to meet beforehand."
"Beforehand—before what-hand?" asked Harry who seemed a little dazed.
She gestured for them to sit and this too they did without objection. A waiter appeared almost instantly to take their order. Hermione watched as the girl sitting opposite them gave the waiter a penetrating stare and in a daze, he drifted away.
"I am Sorina Sanguini. Daughter of Irina and Ivan Sanguini—"
Hermione couldn't help the squeal of excitement in her voice. "The Romanian Princess?"
The woman who looked to be Hermione's age, but was actually far older, inclined her head with regal elegance. "Only princess to a few," she smiled. "I consider myself much more."
"Of course," she agreed quickly, "I've read so much about you. Never in history has there been a vampire of royal blood in line to take the throne, you're absolutely awe-inspiring and your family—!"
Harry coughed giving Hermione a subtle nudge with his knee. "Sorry," she said dropping her voice to a reasonable volume. "I'm just a little starstruck."
Clearing his throat, Harry asked, "Sorina—Princess—what brings you to Britain?"
Her smile seemed to falter and she folded her hands. Hermione could almost see a pout forming on her lips. "I am to go with you on your journey. Did you not know?"
"No," said Harry. "To be honest, we weren't told very much."
"How long did Lucius Malfoy say the expedition would take?" asked Hermione abruptly.
"One day. We leave for Cairo at dusk."
They were both rendered speechless. Hermione couldn't fathom why Lucius Malfoy would be sending them to Cairo. Harry was the first to gather himself.
"Cairo? Wouldn't the—?" Harry looked about him and decided to cast a silencing charm just to be careful. "They're islands, aren't they?" he said looking between the two women. "Shouldn't we be looking for them somewhere in—I don't know—say the ocean?"
"He mentioned a vessel," blurted Hermione whose mind had been racing. "There must be a ship, somewhere, although I don't know why we would be looking for the Disappearing Isles of Bryn in Egypt of all places. I would've figured they'd be somewhere in the Atlantic ocean."
Sorina shrugged. "I trust the cartographer knows what he is doing."
"Cartographer?"
"It means a person who creates maps," Hermione whispered in his ear.
"Oh," blushed Harry, embarrassed. "I knew that. So who is he?" Both their gazes turned toward Sorina questioningly.
"I don't know."
"Well, I doubt Luna and Neville know anything about maps, so—"
"Luna and Neville?" exclaimed Harry. "What do they have to do with this?"
Hermione was stunned. "Harry," she all but whispered. "They're coming with us."
He almost jumped out of his seat. "What—why!"
"They both signed contracts just as we did… you didn't know." She turned to Sorina. "Did you?"
"Yes, I believe I recall these names mentioned."
"So who's this cartographer?" demanded Harry. "Who else did Lucius say was coming? Clearly, he's telling all of us different things."
Sorina gave a tinkering laugh, sounding completely unperturbed. "I have heard my father speak of Lucius Malfoy. He says," she clucked her tongue in irritation, "how do I say this in English? Err… he is 'as sneaky as a snake'."
"Sounds like Lucius Malfoy," grumbled Harry. "Did he make you sign a contract as well?"
A shadow passed over her face. "Yes," she said softly, looking down at the table, "but I was ready to do anything to get out of Romania. Even if, for only a day. As for your questions, Harry Potter, you will not have to wait much longer to have your answers." With that, she stood. "I am sure of only one thing. My job is to keep Hermione Granger safe."
Before either of them could so much as blink, Sorina was gone.
Hermione stayed a few minutes longer with Harry to surmise everything they'd learn to piece things together. Still, they felt that they had got nowhere closer to figuring out Lucius Malfoy's motives and what he was planning. They only knew they had signed binding contracts, both for reasons they weren't at liberty to disclose.
The rest of the day at the apothecary was uneventful. Hermione bid Mr Trestle goodbye and insisted on giving him a hug. He found her melancholy unnecessary and dramatic. "Come Friday you'll be right back here my dear, honestly, your generation..." he fell into a rambling of sorts and Hermione only hugged him again.
It was possible that it would be the last time she saw Mr Trestle again.
When Hermione walked into her flat at six that evening, she was not at all surprised to find Hugo Sinister lounging lazily on her sofa.
"Ah," he sang. "Miss Granger, so lovely to see you again." With a flourish of his fingers, he produced a letter. "And I have a gift from Mr Malfoy who sends his regrets for not being able to see you all off.
She laughed in disbelief. "A gift?" More like a cursed object.
Ignoring her sarcasm, Sinister only grinned. "Yes, a gift." He dug around his fur coat for a few minutes before producing a small rectangular, black velvet box. Hermione took it with trembling fingers. If Lucius Malfoy had sent her jewellery she was going to admit herself into St. Mungo's mental ward and—
Hermione had opened the lid only to find an old rusty key.
"It's a key," she said flatly.
"Not just any key," corrected Sinister with a flashy snap of his thumb. "That key can open any door. It is, of great value to Mr Malfoy. He wishes for you to have it as a token of good faith."
Hermione tried schooling her features into a blank expression.
"Is that all?" she clipped.
Sinister simply smiled as if he knew better. He bowed just as he did the last time, and left. Hermione tore open the letter as soon as he was out the door. Once again, Hermione was baffled. They were to all meet at the edge of Livington Woods, in Lancashire, at quarter to eight.
Checking the time, she realized she didn't have a minute to spare. She had to shower, pack, and then apparate to Lancashire. Determined to be the first one to arrive, she did so under fifty minutes. With the little time she had remaining, she scoured her small collection of books for any reference to the magical key Lucius had given her. Unfortunately, she had no luck. Whatever it was, it wasn't mentioned in any of the books she owned. She packed it into her backpack which had an extension charm. Suffice it to say that it looked a lot lighter than it weighed.
It felt odd packing her things, wondering what she might need. It reminded her of when they had left to hunt for the Horcruxes. Except this was different… it was dangerous, yes, but, she was keenly aware that Ron wasn't coming with them this time.
Hermione considered writing him a letter. She wondered if Harry would write Ginny one. Minutes before disapparating she decided that to write a goodbye letter would imply that she believed they wouldn't return, and that was hardly good luck.
Moments later she found herself in pitch dark, the eerie calm of the woods were the only sounds to accompany her. She lit the tip of her wand and searched around.
"Harry?" she called out. "Luna? Neville?"
"They're not here yet."
Hermione cried out, dropping her wand. The light extinguished. She recognized that voice all too well.
A lumos began to shine from the tip of someone else's wand. Sharp, pale, ethereal features revealed in the dim light. She took a step back, almost tripping.
"Not off to a good start, are you Granger?"
Malfoy bent down and picked up her wand. She held her breath wondering what he might do with it. Without hesitation, he offered it out to her. "You might want to hold onto that."
Breathlessly she took it and asked, "What are you doing here?"
He gave her the slightest smile, and it was the first time she had seen it directed at her. "I take it my father didn't tell you I was heading this."
She gulped. "No. He said there was a cartographer."
"So he did tell you then."
"No," she argued. "He never mentioned it was you."
He clenched his jaw. "Well, it is… where are the others?"
Just then Hermione heard Harry's voice carrying through the forest. Their gaze both snapped in the direction of the echoes, a pitch-black blanket that could not be lit by a simple lumos. Slowly they turned to look back at each other. Hermione could see the silver iris of his eyes dancing in the reflection of the light.
"Don't worry, Granger. I'll play nice..."