Hermione returned from Egypt with dark tan and her hair forced into thin, tight little braids that had been decorated with blue and green beads; she babbled solidly for over an hour about the different enchantments, wards and runes that she'd seen as they walked at a leisurely pace up the island to the lighthouse. She'd brought him a present, wrapped in thick brown paper and padded in it's carrying case by wads of fluffy wool. Gellert hadn't brought her anything, but he had plucked up the courage to ask her something that had been bothering him for a while.

'Egyptian seers used to use these.' She explained, passing him what looked like a skull. It glowed with crimson light, which danced and swirled beneath the blood red runes painted on the cranium like the mist within a crystal ball. A long, golden hose coiled from the back.

'It looks dark.' He stated, trying to decipher the runes.

'It's a real skull, if that's what you're asking but as Mordred says; their definitions of dark were different then.' Hermione shrugged, 'its purpose isn't dark though. You can use it to make other people see your visions.'

'Oh.' He said, glancing down at it. He really did appreciate the thought behind the gift but he didn't want to share the burdens of his dreams and visions with anyone, let alone his loving younger sister. He jumped when her hand fell on his arm, and his eyes darted up to meet hers.

'I know you see things that...' She paused, and he was grateful that she had avoided verbalising that he was terrified of his visions '...that unsettle you. I wanted you to be able to share them, if you feel like that would help. You don't have to suffer alone.'

Carefully, Gellert placed the artefact aside and pulled Hermione into a tight hug. She tucked neatly under his chin, her braided hair no longer threatening to choke him. He picked up one of the serpentine braids, inspecting it over her shoulder. He noticed that each bead was decorated with a miniature sigil.

'I like these.' He informed her. She shifted against him so that she looked up at him, and he wondered when exactly he'd suddenly become so tall.

'Me too. They're self cleaning and there's sigils for protection in there too. I'm not quite sure whether they do anything, because as far as I can tell they haven't actually been energised...' She trailed off, realising that Gellert had been complimenting the appearance rather than the magic.

He released her, the beads in her hair clinking together as she swept it back over her shoulder and proceeded to regale him with a blow by blow account of their foray into the tomb of Ramses the Eighth. It sounded both terrifying and fascinating at once as she described the horrifying combination of muggle traps and curses designed to hurt and hinder anyone who entered. It had, she assured him, all been conducted under the supervision of some of the world's best cursebreakers.

They reached her cottage and she led him inside. She pulled her trunk from her pocket and resized them with a wave of her wand. There was a heavy wooden one that he didn't recognise, and she opened it up to show that it was full of sheets of charcoal covered parchment and books which he quickly discovered were full of her notes on everything she had seen. It was gratifying to know that she had been working at least as hard as he had whilst on her holiday.

'It's all quite dark.' Hermione admitted, paging through some of the sheets of parchment. The shadowy copies of etched images were annotated in Hermione's hand, the jagged runes scrawling in uneven lines as if written in the dark. 'But it was interspersed with some really silly stuff - see here, this is an incontinence curse, which would really only make a mess, and this one here looks like a partial human transfiguration which gives you paws. I suppose both would be effective deterrents but they'd also be useful for modern duels.'

Gellert flicked through some more parchments, taking in the huge variety of curses. There were physical assaults, such as bone breakers and conjured projectiles of all varieties, then there were others with nasty effects on the body like the incontinence curse Hermione had mentioned earlier. Others were far more terrifying; there were curses designed to rend the soul from the body, others to enslave the ghosts if it's victims and others still that looked like early renditions of inferi and could reanimate all the dead within a certain area.

He almost regretted reading some of them; a burning curiosity as to whether these crude and ancient spells would even work had to be firmly forced down. Experimenting with even the mildest curses was a slippery slope to experimenting with dark curses and anything involving necromancy was a long, long way down that slide.

Hermione, as usual, seemed utterly unaffected by the lure of the dark arts. She discussed the concepts with purely academic curiosity, speaking to the air as Gellert battled with his thoughts.

'Did you discover any everyday magic?' He asked in a bid to change the subject. Hermione faltered briefly.

'Not really. Most of the traditional magic was lost when Egypt was occupied by the Ottoman Empire. I did manage to find a book on healing for Berg, but not much else.' She gestured to another package in her trunk, wrapped in brown paper like Gellert's had been and tied shut with what looked like horsehair twine.

'Didn't the animagus spell come from Egypt?' Gellert asked, remembering his magizoologist classes at Durmstrang where they'd had to try to differentiate between wizards in disguise and true creatures.

'Sort of.' Hermione replied, packing all of the parchment away into boxes and placing them on her bookshelves. 'The romans added the incantation which made the transformation much more reliable. I think lots of ancient Egyptian wixen had very little control over what part and percentage of them shifted and hoped for the best; I mean, Isis got wings, but never a full transformation and Horus could supposedly become a full hawk or just have a bird head but Taweret was stuck with the body of a hippo.'

Gellert snickered as Hermione showed him one of the rubbings, this one depicting a large hippopotamus, walking on two legs with the aid of a walking stick.

'I'd want to be something big and fast, to keep pace with Kelpie.' Gellert decided after a moment.

'I think you would be.' Hermione agreed, glancing over him speculatively. 'But not a horse... a bear? No, not right...'

'You would be a phoenix.' Gellert decided, and Hermione blushed, swatting at him with a hand.

'Don't be silly. You're just saying that because my magic manifests as fire.'

'Fine, a unicorn.' He grinned at her as she scowled. 'They're fierce and beautiful, incredibly powerful and very hard to catch.'

'I am not a unicorn.' She gritted with mock irritably and Gellert sobered, pondering a little more seriously.

'Okay... but you'd definitely be something magical. You're far too unique to be a normal animal.'

'I don't think it works like that.' Hermione protested, but she was smiling as she looped her arm over his and allowed him to lead her back outside into the summer sun. They strolled up to the cliff top, sea breeze whipping at their clothes and snatching at Hermione's skirts. He walked her to their favourite spot, conjuring a blanket a little way from the edge where it was a little less vertigo inducing. Hermione sat without comment or complaint, folding her legs beneath her. A moment later an elf popped in with a basket of miniature quiches, cucumber sandwiches and chocolate strawberries, laying the spread out with a snap of it's long, bony fingers.

Hermione's eyebrows drew together as she took in the different dishes, all of which were her favourites.

'What is it?' She asked after a moment.

'Nothing.' Gellert replied dismissively, looking out over the cliffs. The sea glittered brightly, white horses dancing across the waves.

'You've complimented me and had the elves prepare my favourite lunch.' His sister pointed out, picking up one of the little pastries and biting into it delicately. She'd learned a lot since they'd first met, more than four years ago now. She ate delicately, like any lady of high birth. Even on the blanket, her posture was perfect; back straight, chin up and skirts arranged neatly over her legs.

'There's something I need to talk to you about.' Gellert began, having practiced this particular part of the conversation in the mirror for hours to ensure that his tone was carefully modulated to betray none of his true feelings on the matter. Hermione raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He took a deep breath to steady himself, occluding heavily in an attempt to remain emotionless and appropriate in his efforts to fulfil his role as her older brother.

'You know that as the eldest wizard in the family, it's my responsibility to defend your honour.' Hermione opened her mouth to protest and he held his hand up quickly to stop her talking. 'I know that you can defend your own honour, but its not all about slinging spells at wizards who mistreat you. I'm meant to be vetting the boys around you and pointing you towards good matches, taking advantage of insights you won't get as a witch and acting as a less emotionally involved set of eyes. I hope that you'd do the same for me, even without it being an official duty.'

The British witch still looked less than happy, but at least she seemed less likely to launch into a rant about sexism, equality and the patriarchy. He took a deep breath, steadying himself and recalling the next section of his pre-prepared speech.

'I feel like I'm failing in my duty. I don't even know the names of your classmates, let alone whether they're suitable. Mordred says muggles think about marriage much later than we do, but surely you've thought on it a bit?'

'Mordred is right.' Hermione informed him, her tone as carefully matching the one he had used. 'But I have thought about marriage extensively. I'm sure some families have considered it, but none have yet expressed their interest and I am reasonably certain I already know who I wish to marry when the time comes.'

Anger flared up in his chest, making his heart pound and his breath quicken. He ruthlessly occluded, forcing the emotion deep down into the icy depth of his magical core. He hated whichever boy had captured her interest already.

'Who?' He asked, proud of the completely emotionless tone. Hermione blinked at him.

'You.' She finally replied, then continued before he had a chance to say anything in return. 'But I'm not meant to.'

'Why?' Gellert demanded. His first reaction was pleasure, followed quickly by disbelief and then finally anger; he'd never seen a more perfect match. Their magic melded perfectly, they were both powerful and intelligent and Hermione was from an even more illustrious lineage than his own. There was then the added benefits that she was stunning, politically savvy and unbelievably brave.

'The magic that brings me here...' Hermione began, her expression pained, 'is not apparition. It's powerful and strange and your mother doesn't understand how it works or what the side effects will be.'

'And?' Gellert demanded, irritated. He didn't care if Hermione turned into a Hippopotamus like the Egyptian witch, he loved everything about her and losing one of the many things that was wonderful about her wouldn't change that.

'We don't know what could happen... maybe one day I'll just stop coming.'

'I'd come to England and find you.' Gellert argued.

'Or I might splinch and die.'

'At least we would have the time together that we were given.'

Hermione looked at him in exasperation.

'Look, what does it hurt? We'll deal with any side effects as they come; maybe they won't and everything will be fine. We can get mother to draw up a preliminary betrothal, that either of us can back out of if it doesn't work.'

'And what about the family then?' Hermione demanded, but she didn't seem to against the idea.

'It's not like anything would change when we sign a contract, it just makes the time we spend together already a little less scandalous.' Gellert pointed out. 'And it gives you more freedom, because you're no longer available to anyone else. If you choose to break it off, I swear to not hold it against you.'

Hermione pondered, looking away from him and out to sea.

'So it would be informal? Not a true betrothal?'

'Courting.' Gellert confirmed. 'We can set a long timeframe in the contract, so that we don't even have to be betrothed until we're both of age, if it makes you more comfortable. We could even review it every year to make sure we both wish to continue the agreement.'

The young witch nodded, still staring out over the cliffs. He could almost hear the thoughts flying through her head, but he couldn't read her expression from the angle he sat at. He crossed his fingers, hoping that Hermione's odd little muggle spell for good luck would grant him some of it's favour.

'Okay.' She finally agreed, 'We can try it. We'll speak to your mother about it at dinner.'

Gellert let a blinding smile spread across his lips and barely kept himself from launching across the blanket to embrace her. He would court her so well that she'd never even think of courting anyone else.