Hermione's family took security very, very seriously. They'd tumbled through the portal and ridden as fast as they could to the barrow. Nobody knew that Hermione's family had their stronghold on the island but they still didn't want to risk remaining out in the open.
Hermione remained long enough to explain briefly to Gorlois what had happened, then she faded away and left the boys alone to watch the Gorlois family lock down their stronghold. Gorlois slotted the staff on his back into a groove on the wardstone and protective enchantments descended like a curtain across the building, augmenting the already formidable warding until it almost hummed with magical intensity. The guardians donned armour and swords, marching out to surround The Barrow in glittering ranks. A series of massive stone slabs, each as thick as Gellert's arm, slid out of the staircase wall and Gellert couldn't help feeling like they were being entombed below.
The two boys were tucked into the back room. Gellert spent very little time in The Barrow but he could tell immediately that this was where Hermione spent most of her time when she was taking lessons with Gorlois. A massive circular table dominated the space in front of the table, surrounded by daunting stone chairs. A thick curtain separated that from a primitive bedroom off to the left - an open firepit, surrounded by luscious mounds of sheepskin, furs and woven blankets. Another curtain separated them from a kitchen to the right, a long, low fireplace with a spit for roasting, hooks for the large pot that hung from the ceiling and a wide shelf at the back for bread.
He'd lain awake for hours, thoughts racing through his mind. After many hours, a skeletal maid clacked in and pulled on a set of squeaky, bright yellow gloves that he assumed was one of Hermione's odd conjuratons and began to kneed dough for bread. He finally fell asleep to the steady squeak-slap as the maid prepared breakfast.
It had felt like he was awoken only minutes later. The bread had been cooked, spilling it's fragrant scent into the room and something rich and meaty was now on the fire. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he'd missed dinner the night before.
'Morning, Gellert.' Hermione said brightly. She was sitting at the table, dressed in one of her family's old dresses. He blinked, briefly wondering why they'd ever changed witch's fashion, before his attention was drawn to the hunk of bread in her hand. It steamed slightly and his mouth watered. He climbed up from the pile of blankets and padded over to the table, scooping up his shoes along the way. She used a lethally sharp looking dagger to cut him off a slice of bread, passing it to him once he'd finished tying his boots.
'Any word from mother?' He asked, tucking into the dark, nutty bread as the maid deposited a bowl of dense stew in front of him. It smelled fabulous; Hermione's family were incredible cooks considering they had to forage for all of their ingredients. The stew was flavoured with wild herbs and the naturally sumptuous gamey wild rabbit, the bread was dark and dense with a distinctly nutty flavour and was more like cake than the bread he was used to, but it was deliciously moist and he hardly missed the butter.
'Nothing yet, but I imagine she'll be coming in person instead of risking sending an owl.'
Berg joined them after a moment, shuffling over to his own meal and tucking in with a moan that suggested he was just as hungry as Gellert had been. The grating of stone against stone had all three reaching for their wands and the maid conspicuously grabbing the large butcher's knife from it's hook on the wall. She motioned for them to remain seated, prowling out of the room in her bright gloves and apron, weapon held aloft.
A moment later she returned, bowing Gorlois himself through the door. He was followed by Lady Grindelwald, who looked like she'd aged half a decade overnight.
The guardian fretted over her, taking her cloak and hat and brushing them clean whilst Gorlois pulled out one of the immensely heavy stone chairs for her to sit on. Her exhausted sigh as she sat was almost terrifying. He'd always considered his mother to be invincible, but she certainly didn't look it now. She looked exhausted... defeated.
A bowl of stew was placed in front of her and Hermione passed over a couple of slices of bread. There was a certain resignation with which his mother began to pick at the meal.
'Frau Hassel is, as I'm sure you guessed, dead.' His mother sighed heavily. 'Obviously, without her, we're missing our potioneer and we've already lost our healer. Perhaps the most I can say is that she died almost instantly.'
'Was it meant to get all of us?' Berg asked.
'We believe so.' His mother heaved a sigh. 'It's awful but we're lucky it was only one of us.'
He allowed his mother to finish her food before telling her everything that they'd discovered from the house elves at Hawdon House. To his surprise, his mother then told them everything they'd discovered in the coven's investigations. It was concerningly little; they didn't have anyone with the kind of knowledge base to even guess at what had caused the damage without a potion's lab and extensive research. There had been no traces of anything untoward in the kitchens, the bread oven or around the table. The entire investigation now hinged on the bowl of soup they'd brought to The Barrow.
His mother informed them that they'd be staying at The Barrow until the funeral, then left, following Lord Gorlois to pick up a sample of poisoned soup.
'There's only seven left.' Hermione finally said, her voice trembling slightly. Gellert swallowed and counted off the remaining coven members on his fingers. She was right.
'We can't let them win.' He promised lowly. 'We'll go back to school after the funeral, we'll prove that they haven't scared us. We're the most powerful wixen of our generation and we will not retreat in fear of a coward with poison.'
Hermione glanced up, something unreadable in her eyes.
'Don't underestimate them because they haven't fought face to face. Poison may be dishonourable, but it is effective and difficult to trace.' She cautioned. Gellert scowled in annoyance but couldn't dispute her words.
'You're both right.' Berg interrupted. 'We mustn't underestimate the poisoner but we can't hide here forever. We'll all carry a bezoar on us at all times, and I'll research some spells to detect poisons in food.'
'Ostendeo Rebus.' Hermione suggested. 'It's meant to show up anything unexpected in a meal, although it only works if you've already got an idea of the ingredients.'
'Good.' Berg folded his arms and Gellert pulled out his wand, waving it over his stew and repeating the incantation. The effect was subtle; a warmth that emanated from the wood. Hermione then leaned over and sprinkled something into it; probably dust, but equally as likely to be breadcrumbs or something she'd conjured. He repeated the spell and his wand vibrated slightly between his fingers. He nodded.
'We'll see if we can find anything else.' Gellert decided, 'but it's a start, and it will work for simple things like tea and water.'
'I'll look into protective enchantments.' Hermione decided, 'you look into antidotes, Berg. You're the best at potions.'
'We'll see if we can find anything not in Ogham.' Gellert glanced at Berg, who rolled his eyes. The trio got up, sliding out around the chairs and heading to the door, only to be met by Gorlois. The powerfully built undead Lord crossed his hands over his chest and glared down at them all. Hermione gave a quiet mewl of dismay, evidently already aware of what her ancestor was about to demand.
'I hope you're not planning to sneak off to the archives before you've done your drills?' The Lord demanded.
'Drills?' Berg queried, then scrambled to catch the ancient looking sword which Gorlois tossed in his direction. A moment later, Gellert fumbled to catch a second and of course Hermione caught hers easily. Berg groaned in dismay.
'Ten laps.' Gorlois instructed, levelling a finger at Hermione. 'No cutting corners.'
To his horror, his witch bounced on her toes, grinning as she stripped off her outer layers and belted the sword over her chemise and drawers. Then, barely dressed, she darted past Gorlois. Her booted footsteps faded as she climbed the stairs.
'Well, what are you waiting for?' Gorlois demanded, glaring at the two boys.
'Ten laps of what?' He asked.
'The ritual circle.' Gorlois said it like it was obvious. Berg's jaw dropped in dismay and Gellert's mind flashed to the massive circle that he'd only really seen from a distance. It was hard to judge, particularly with the barren landscape and without knowing how tall the stones actually were. He'd put it at over a hundred yards across, however.
'But that's... more than five miles...' Berg groaned. Gellert resigned himself to the inevitable and began stripping off his own top layers. His brother looked at him in betrayal before copying him.
Unfortunately, Gellert suspected that they wouldn't just be running. Hermione only ever looked at him like that when she was anticipating beating his in a fight.