"So where are we going?" She leaned close to Tom to avoid walking under the swaying body.
"Deep into the forest, unfortunately it's impossible to apparate directly to the area because it's cursed-"
"Cursed? Defined cursed." She accepted the hand Tom lent out as they climbed up a particularly thick rooted tree, the ground now angling upward showing a slight ascension.
"It's a very dark magic that lays over the area, it's not a very welcoming place. The Japanese ministry is constantly coming out here to put wards up over the area to try and keep muggles and wizards out. Not many who go into this particular area of the forest come out unharmed or alive, usually their bodies disappear and reappear in the caves." He stopped and glanced around and Hermione followed his gaze. "You seem to know a lot, the muggle books of course blame this area on the suicides and ghosts but do you know the real reason?"
Hermione racked her brain and found it, a book she'd read many ages ago sitting quietly in the library, Ancient Forests and The Secrets They Keep. She'd picked it up hoping to gain more information on the Forbidden Forest and although she didn't have exactly a photographic memory, she could nearly remember most of what she read in a book.
"Mostly. This area has been a gathering ground for dark magic and arts for years. As far back as Wizarding history goes, those who chose to practice the dark arts and suffer their consequences usually grouped together in areas, and this is one of them." She accepted another hand as he pulled her up over a log entangled in roots and crawling with insects. "Thousands of years of dark curses, magic, and other forbidden magic eventually came to mark the land. Many muggles came here to kill themselves, the dark magic from the forest essentially forcing these people to commit suicide, though not in all cases."
"You have a good memory," He had a small grin on his lips and Hermione felt a surge of pride. "Grindlewald and his followers rarely came here and Dumbledore and his men rarely showed up either, even today's dark wizards know this place is dangerous. However, this specific item was too important to be afraid of such things. As soon as Grindlewald told me what he wanted, I knew. I was here for months working away. I mastered Legilimency as well as Occlumency very young in school, it was almost too easy for me. I found myself, not reading, but being able to interpret ones thoughts fast enough to where I could simply look at someone and know they were lying."
"Occlumency makes it much easier to ignore the dark magic that covers this area, though it was still difficult, I was sure a few times I'd nearly lost my mind once or twice but I worked my way through it, desperate to please Grindlewald and Dumbledore to prove myself to be their equals, to earn their respect and trust utterly-"
"His equal?" She interrupted stopping to look at him. I thought the whole purpose of this whole mission was to kill Dumbledore and end all of this?"
"Just because I wanted to feel equally as powerful and intelligent as my master's, didn't mean I want to be like them. I want to prove that you can be what I am, do what I'm doing, destroy what I'm destroying, and not want to tear apart wizard and muggle kind." He gave her a hard look to accompany the tone of his voice, his words slow to press emphasis on his point.
"Oh, I didn't-"
"I'm not offended, I just want us to be on the same page. I can be just as almighty and powerful and still understand what needs to be done to take care of wizards and muggles alike. I could do it Hermione, I could be over it all and be loved."
She felt her stomach clench softly at his words, the infliction in his voice causing something to scratch at the back of her head, but adamantly pushed it away. Tom had shown her his true side, even if it was only when they were alone and intimate. She knew he loved her and would do whatever in his power to protect her, but would that truly change the direction of motives for his life after the war? Was she just an unexpected piece that caught him by surprise, but gave him no reason to think he shouldn't rule afterwards?
She had to fight her natural reflex to bite her lip when she felt nervous or unsure, now acutely aware that Tom might be reading her thoughts and had been doing so for a while now. She knew eye-contact played a large part in Legilimency, is that why she felt this way? Was this all a big mind ploy that had lead her out here as just a slightly helpful but sacrificial pawn? His eyebrows furrowed and his stare grew less cold as he stared at her, perhaps he was changing his emotions because he was reading hers.
No. She felt her head shake with the power of emotion behind the word. While she helped slightly, she'd gotten in the way on these adventures more than anything, caused him trouble that would've pushed him to rid himself of her ages ago. He could've walked away and done nothing back at the castle when Greyback was toying with her, he would've killed her in the end and they both knew it. He had no reason to approach her the way he did in the beginning or simply the night of the ball. He didn't have to bring her with him on all of this, he loved her. She loved him.
"I don't search your mind very often," His voice shocked her out of her thoughts and she felt almost affronted that he'd answered one of her questions but he continued talking before she could say anything to make an argument of it. "When we first met, I did. I still do it to many people, it's an important tool these days. Some people are harder than others, unknowingly having a block in their mind…not knowing the secret power they have for Occlumency. Still…I merely feel them out now when I want to know what you're feeling and how to respond. Most of the time, you're much unspoken and keep your thoughts to yourself and that aggravates me greatly. Seeing as though I could simply dig through and figure out what you're nearly thinking but a part of me fights it so I can be surprised."
Hermione felt slightly stunned that he was speaking so much to her. She was almost unbelieving that he was telling her the things he was only because they seemed so unlike him. She didn't really think of Tom and this…this side of him naturally existed, that he had to create it and force it. Tom Riddle wasn't the type that normally stopped and thought about others feeling before his, not the type to want to understand or care how someone was feeling if it didn't suit him. The Tom Riddle she'd associated herself with was the one who wooed her with this hot quick whirlwind freckled with adventure and conspiracy. The Tom Riddle she'd come to know didn't feel the need to speak in fear or regretting what he would say, nor did he pay much attention to if someone was upset and feel the need to fix it.
"Were you reading my thoughts just then?" She had to speak, to get something out of her mouth or she feared she'd never find words to put in it.
"No, not at first. I only started prodding when you were trying not to bite your lip," A small smirk curled up on his lips as though he was feeling rather smug with himself. "You only bite your lip when you're nervous or upset. I didn't need to feel your thoughts to know that. I know you slightly better than you think I might."
"I don't feel like I know you anywhere near how well you know me." She mumbled softly feeling almost ashamed.
"That's not your fault, it's mine. I'm protective of my thoughts and feelings. Some of the most powerful people were those who never let their emotions or feelings get in the way of what they wanted. Do I feel unhappy? I've never really felt necessarily anything among those lines, but I know that I'm happier than I've been when we're lost together doing something on our own. I feel…relaxed." His voice sounded like it was straining to say the words coming from his lips, and Hermione knew immediately why.
She wasn't wrong about the Tom Riddle she knew. These were all most certainly traits of his, not the good ones no, but traits she'd come to learn and look deeper into. This all simply led Hermione to one simple understanding, which was that she was still getting to know Tom Riddle. She was still learning about those he had worked so hard to keep hidden from those around him.
"So does that mean that I'm easy to read? Since you know me so well?" She let herself turn forward again, remembering that they still needed to be moving and making their way towards whatever they were supposed to be making their way too.
Tom followed suit, walking next to Hermione with a small charming looking grin on his lips, giving his eyes and skin more life than it usually showed and her stomach and heart pounded with glee to be able to cause and or witness it.
"No. You're a girl-"
"Excuse me?!" She let herself fall and step behind, her mind racing to defend herself immediately.
He laughed and Hermione's stomach pinched in on itself and the shock and frustration she felt flitted out of her and she found herself smiling as well as though laughing at herself.
"I simply mean, we have an emotional relationship and it's easier to understand a man's view of thinking rather than a woman's, seeing as I'm not one." He took a sharp turn around a tree forcing Hermione to turn quickly and found herself face to face with him, his eyes looking particularly bright and stormy with a smile still on his face. "I don't want to understand you, I have much more fun seeing you get angry and learning to be less private with myself is a plus."
Hermione bit her cheeks to keep from smiling back at him, trying to keep a look of joke uncaring but her cheeks trembled and she felt her lips crinkle together when a small laugh caught on her tongue. She was forced to keep her lips pursed to keep it down.
Tom smile and placed a hand around her cheek, his skin warm and giving Hermione a small warm current to run through her blood. His eyes seemed to be reading her endlessly and she found that she wasn't bothered by it at all, but really rather in love with all of it. He placed his other hand to hold her and bring her slowly forward and their lips tingled softly when they finally made contact. His fingers held her so softly that she herself almost felt she was breakable, his lips so soft and full of something she'd never experienced; she now knew why people always said they felt like they were floating when it was right.
"I love you and that changes everything." He released her from the kiss and it seemed to bring their current situation and location with it suddenly. She opened her eyes and saw his were still examining her face softly.
They continued walking for a while in silence, but hands held tightly onto each other with the occasional slipping when Hermione clumsily lost footing in a tangle of roots of plant life. They were walking for nearly half an hour when another surprise came out at them. Turning to come around another tree she nearly ripped Tom's arm off jumping back from another hanging body. This one only a tad less creepy than the one before it; though this was only due to the fact that this body was obviously very far in its decomposition phase. The smell that surrounded the area however made her stomach clammy and placed a small bit of bile at the back of her throat. Heavy dirt mingling with the wet plants and vines was now assaulted with the sickening sweet smell of a rotting corpse. Her nose crinkled and she though she might pull her shirt over her nose when it finally disappeared. The sight of it was still however etched into her mind, much like the first. The skin was ridiculed with large pock marks, nearly holes, where animals and insects had burrowed and fed. The face of the body now barely with any skin, muscle, or tendon to hide the dingy colored skull. The clothes the man (she assumed from his suit) was wearing were in strips and tatters at his feet and across his body where mold had begun to descend across them and make their home. She very consciously sidestepped the bright yellow, slimy looking mold to avoid getting any on her shoes.
"That, unfortunately, won't be the last one we see. Try not to get to squeamish or let them scare you too much. Unless someone else, and I doubt this beyond a reasonable thought, came through and jinxed the bodies to come alive, their harmless." Tom's voice spooked her from her memory and she sped up slightly to follow closer behind him.
She couldn't say how long they'd been walking now but they were still hiking quite heavily upwards and her calves and thighs were burning painfully with every step she took that required so much as lifting her foot off the ground an inch. She was forced to stop and put her hair up to try and keep her body heat down, knowing embarrassingly well that her face was red and sweaty and that her hair had begun to frizz. Tom, on the other side, seemed to be keeping pace with no problem as though this was something he did every day. Upon closer inspection on Hermione's part, she could see that he didn't even quite have a sheen to his skin and that this was simply normal walking for him.
She felt her mind wander slightly again to try and keep her mind off of the gradual increase of the voice telling her to stop hiking. Hermione found herself thinking back to the events of the past year that had led her to be here. She was still in a state of shock knowing that her once beloved professor was still alive, and in fact more evil and insane that Grindlewald. How could she have not seen what this man truly was? Was he really this much of a sadist and power-hungry for control over everything that he'd split his soul, that he'd be for the death and destruction of a large percentage of wizards, muggles, and other magical creatures? Was he so malevolent that he would give way to the sacrifice of the innocent children in the school that had already managed to survive through what they'd all gone through, to prove his power and bring a new order? Was he truly so insane that he would punish the children and those before them for something that they had no control over? What made a man turn so against society that he believed that a child born of muggle parents made the decision and should be punished for something that they played no other part in than simply being alive?
"Why would Dumbledore send Fenrir and the Inferi into the school? Why didn't he warn you about it?" Her words came out slow and paused as she was struggling to breathe and speak normally as they climbed.
"I knew of it, though not pointedly. I'd been told by many that he had something big in the works but our informants are growing scarce as he comes closer to what he wants. He will do anything to make sure his plan goes through and that means he'll only trust those closest to him with his immediate heavy plans." Tom spoke smoothly and levelly as though she wasn't near death over on his side.
"His move proved rather difficult for me, with no warning I was forced to somehow assume which side to play and while not giving the other away unless absolutely necessary. You," He smirked quickly but it was gone before Hermione could be positive it was there. "Made that rather difficult and I was forced to choose."
"It appeared as though Dumbledore may have told his lot not to harm me because I was in several situations which should have meant death or turning and they simply walked on by. The plan might have worked perfectly had Fenrir not pulled his trick," At this point Hermione felt herself shiver at the heavily dark energy coming off Tom at his memory of the event. The muscle in his cheek ticked rapidly to indicate how much anger he was trying to suppress. "things would have worked out a lot better on our parts. He's no doubt shared the information of my relations with you to Dumbledore. Although, the old man did know about you, just not to the extent that Fenrir found."
He turned around to face her and signaled to a large log near their feet. She sat down and almost cried with relief at the immense joy her legs felt to be sitting. She felt herself breath heavily and pushed her head down between her legs, ignoring the rude look he was probably giving her for being so out of shape, she finally caught her breath. Tom came and sat next to her and reached into his pocket to pull out a tiny bag, much like Hermione's pouch, and give her some water which she drank greedily.
"There's no telling what he might do when he was given that information. I've no doubts that Fenrir was at Dumbledore's feet savoring what he got for the reward he'd be given." His voice was honeyed with annoyance as though he felt Fenrir was sucking up. "It could possibly be that he's given word to have us both killed, which will make our trip much more perilous that once thought."
"What about the note I received before the ball? The warning, you've no clue who that might've been from?" She stretched her legs out and groaned when they popped loudly.
"No. That particular bit has me quite stumped honestly. There's no students at the school, Malfoy included mind you that, that would be aware of such plans with something of this size and importance." He sipped thoughtfully on his water, his brow curving in concentration.
"None of those students that would know like me enough to warn me like that. It's not likely that any of them sent it." She replied after another long sip.
She wiped her mouth and placed the cap back on the bottle of her canteen when Tom's hand reached out and grabbed her firmly by the hand. Rather than jump at his sudden instinct change, she felt her body freeze. Her once heavy breathing was now quiet and sallow as though to allow as little movement in her chest as possible. Tom turned to look her way and she mouthed at him
What?
Listen.
His voice was less than that of a whisper and his lips hardly moving while she spoke. He raised his wand and quickly waved it over himself and Hermione, his lips moved little and silently as he began mouthing incantations. Hermione watched with her body hardly daring to blink as a sort of fiery edged film creeped from the top of their heads down to their feet, encasing them in a softly glowing, but rather lumpy, orb.
She strained her ears heavily to attempt to listen to whatever Tom had heard and stretched her sight as far as it would go into the dark forest to glimpse whatever he might have seen. He slowly put pressure under Hermione's arm to indicate they were slowly standing up, their bodies moving as silently as nature would allow. Tom's hand curled around her elbow and gently and slowly steered her towards a large rock buried into the dirt beneath a tree's massive roots to form a small unsightly cavern. She held her breath with every step, doing her best to hold her weight up as to refrain from making any type of noise. Hermione hardly wanted her last moments to be because she stepped on a twig or crunchy leaf, she was Hermione Granger and she refused to be defeated by a noisy nature filled floor..
They finally made it to the cavern and both crouched down to press themselves as far under the rock as the tiny little cave went. Scooching was the hardest, their clothes made soft scraping sounds as they tried to edge their way into the tight crevice of dirt in the back of the rock. He turned to Hermione and held a finger to his lip, his face severe and furrowed with anger and what almost looked like surprise and confusion.
However it was at this point that Hermione very clearly realized what happened to make Tom raise such alarm. The moment the sound hit her ears, her blood curdled and she felt herself bite down hard on her cheek to keep from gasping in fear and surprise.
"Daniel, this is fucking ridiculous. You've got no fucking clue where we are!" A woman's voice clearly sounded and echoed softly around them, leaving Hermione dumbfounded as to why she didn't hear it whenever Tom did. Her voice was tinged with desperation and anger.
"The dude at the cabin next door literally sat me down and told me that if we veered just a mile or so off the main trail we'd find a wind cave. Not just a wind cave, Amber. A fucking wind cave without ten thousand tourist walking around in ruining the point of relaxing vacation hike." His voice was equally annoyed and she could hear doubt as well, as though he were trying to convince himself. "We've got the GPS and we've got a map as well. We also have the radio which if needed, can send signal and alert someone that we're lost, if we were lost, which we aren't!"
Hermione was suddenly reminded of Harry and Ron and how they stubborn they were when it came to things like this, refusing to admit they'd waited too long to study or didn't actually have a plan but didn't want to admit it.
"We've been walking for almost two and a half hours Daniel! We should've come up on something by now! We've walked much farther than a mile or two by now and everything is starting to look the same! I'm starting to get creeped out, Daniel! I want to find a way out of here now!" Her voice got high pitched and shaky and Hermione nearly felt sorry for the poor girl.
"Fuck Amber! Would you just…just give me a second, okay?" Their footsteps, which had become suddenly pronounced like the way their voices appeared, stopped.
Hermione heard the rustling of movement and a zipper. He must've pulled something out for a second later the bag zipped again and the rustling movements sounded again.
"Okay, look here. The GPS says we need to go another mile north and that should take us right back to the train head, okay?' His voice sounded rather relieved at the update in location and she heard the girl sigh. "I'm sorry, okay Amber?"
There was a pause in which Hermione assumed that she was simply making time pass to prove her point that she was truly upset at how things had turned out. She really wanted to peek around the cave but her body still held her solidly still squished next to Tom.
"Do you even know how to read that thing? Didn't you throw away the instructions?"
"If I had known you were going to sissy out and whine so much, I would've just let you stay at the hotel…Jesus…" Their footsteps in the ground resumed and while their voices were still quite loud, they had begun to trail off showing that they were in fact moving again.
As soon as the voices became quiet enough for her to do so, Hermione released a deep breath of air that she had seemed to have been holding since the couple had begun their trip back. She sagged as much as the space allowed and rested her head on Tom's shoulder in relief. However it only lasted a second for he quickly moved and placed a hand up to signal Hermione to stay and remain quiet.
He slowly made his way out of the cave and stealthily moved around to view the area all around their hiding spot, looking towards the direction he thought the couple might have gone. Though their voices were still slightly audible she had a feeling Tom wouldn't be seeing the couple no matter what direction he looked. He returned and motioned for her to come forward but motioned slowly signaling for her to do the same.
She continued to take deep quiet breaths as she unfurled slowly for the underside of the rock. Her back stretching appreciatively while her eyes began to dart from tree to tree, scanning the area for any type of movement. She was glad she had tied her hair up to keep it away from her ears so that she could hear everything around her.
"We're more than two hours from the nearest trail." He spoke quietly. "They'd had to have been walking for at least three or four hours to get to this area from any of the marked trails."
"Then what-"
"We need to be on our guard. That was not something I planted. There's no way in any hell that we didn't hear their voices until they were right there." His voice was severe as he spoke. "There's not any wildlife in this area of the woods. Not to mention the nearest city or livable habitation is a great ways away. We're four hours of the nearest marked train, that's not saying how far we actually are."
She pulled herself up onto the higher ground and looked around to try and pinpoint where the soft now almost nonexistent voices were coming from, but they seemed to be coming from all directions as though it was just an echo. She steadily reached into her pocket to grasp her wand firmly in her hand and hold it at her side, deciding now seemed like the proper time to be overtly aware of her surroundings. She rubbed her fingers softly through the softly groved path that her fingers always held had created, her hands sweaty with fear, maybe some foreign form of excitement, and some more fear and a large dose of apprehension of what could have come into Tom's guarded area and set such an odd yet convincing trap?
She gripped her wand tighter to keep her hands from shaking slightly, promptly reminding her head that she'd promised herself that this mission, this time, she was going be brave, prepared, and different. She however, couldn't shake herself of the feeling that her body was really intent of fighting this promise and running away and hiding away from all of this.
"So, do we just keep going then? What changes?" She kept her voice low and soft now that she knew how a voice traveled in the woods.
Tom stopped for a moment as though he might actually be contemplating simply turning around and waiting to do it again tomorrow but it went quickly and he was shaking his head only a few seconds later.
"What else do we do? That was too close to us too quickly for it not to be have been triggered or something as such. Our presence might very well be known but hopefully we were quick enough and nobody will come to check. Like I said, Dumbledore's followers know the danger of this area and aren't too keen on coming out here unless they absolutely have too. We turn around we're probably going to run into something or someone and be attacked and I can guarantee you it will be moved and secretly hidden before his wand flashes to kill you."
They walked in silence for a few minutes then, both of them still keeping their tread light and now both of them constantly turning and looking to see around them for any signs of movement or noise, but Hermione's curiosity got the best of her as it usually did.
"So what exactly are we going to be getting this time?" She released her wand to try and dry her profusely sweating palms on her shirt.
"A very special item, this one. It will anger him more than the last might have, it's a wand that belonged to someone who was once very dear to him."
She went quiet for a moment while her brain worked quickly to try and put her information that she knew of Dumbledore together to guess whoever's wand it may have been.
"His sister." She said suddenly, the information clicking together like a snap.
"Very good, ten points for quick logic Miss Granger," His voice was soft and Hermione had to really listen to hear his soft spoken words. "Much of the things we will be collecting will have belonged to his late family and loved ones. Her death was really the cataclysm for his entire devoted existence in this."
"What do you mean?"
"He's blamed himself for Kendra's death the moment she was gone. He could think of no greater way to honor his sister's memory than to take a piece of her and put a part of his life in there for it to stay forever with her. To give part of his life away for her and the cause he came to believe."
"Wow, that might sound rather sweet if it wasn't so evil and twisted in actual reality." She rolled her eyes and heard Tom chuckle softly.
"I'm sure that goes for many things in the world, it would be sweet if not deemed so evil in the eyes of society." Hermione frowned at the way he twisted the joke into some deeper meaning.
It was another silent breath-only filled hour, or what felt like it, before Hermione noticed that the gray light that had been filtering through the thick brush of the area was now beginning to dark making the little vision they had in this thick area of their travels. Eventually they stopped and realized maybe it was time for wand light when Hermione tripped over her third large root although she was right behind Tom at his back. They lit their wands which Tom used an enchantment of his own making or one she'd never heard of, to dim the bright shining light of their spell to a dim warm glow that illuminated only as far as they needed to see to continue going forward.
She also decided that the forest was officially three hundred thousand times creepier in the dark at night than it was during the day. She found herself rather jumpy coming around trees not sure whether she would be assaulted by a third dead body. They walked for at least one more solid tiresome hour before Tom came to a half and announced their arrival.
"This is it, we're here."
Hermione held her wand up so that her light would shine further around her and failed to see what they had reached that didn't look like what they'd been traveling through for the past day now. She ignored the small pinch of annoyance that budded at the back of her head at not being able to see what they had reached.
"What is here? I don't see anything." She said finally after a moment of silence which he didn't bother to elaborate or move on.
Tom, however, chose to ignore her and instead began to walk up to a tree that stood directly in front of him. The tree was massive with a diameter that had to be at least six or eight feet in size (although she'd seen larger in the forbidden forest she was sure). She wasn't close enough to see clearly but she at the point in time noticed something quite odd about this particular tree.
The tree from the shadow her wand cast on it seemed to have an odd texture about it now that she was really looking at it. The tree seemed to have a rather odd smooth surface, more such than those around it, but still somehow jagged in the sense of whatever was making up the pattern on its bark. She also noticed that unlike the other trees in the immediate vicinity, this one was rather clear or moss, dirt, or any kind of real damage that she could see, such as rot or animal homes like the others.
She held her wand higher over her head and stepped closer while Tom circled to the side and she saw that the very front of the tree had a large crack going around the front as though a large cave styled door had been carved into the tree and then sealed back up. She walked up towards its large rolling roots and gasped when she finally found herself recognizing what she was looking at.
The tree was painstakingly engraved from the roots at its very edge where it met the ground at their feet all the way up to the black sky blocking leafs (which allowed absolutely no type of light from the sky above) in red inked Runes and what looked to be some ancient form of Latin or something similar. The Runes were all lined up into long horizontal rows as though it had been sliced into rounds and stacked upon each other. She also suddenly realized that although she was not fluent in interpreting and reading Runes due to her studies, that she didn't recognize a single Rune that this tree bore.
Although it was easy for her to tell they were Runes from their characteristics, she could hardly guess what these ancient looking (probably dead language) Runes said. Tom, however, must've known it fluently for he was moving around the tree reading the Runes up and down as if he were reading a novel, his lips moving silently as he walked around examining all its marks with complete concentration, his face looked more concentrated and furrowed than ever with the soft yellow glow of the orb lights casting shadows across his prominent cheeks and features.
Hermione realized at this point she ought to just stay in a state of shock and surprise because she seemed to be taking many things in at once rather suddenly. She was staring at the tree and kept blinking to clear her eyes, her vision going rather blurry after a few moments staring at the tree and she finally realized why. The Runes and the ancient subscripts were changing, rearranging themselves with every minute or so that passed. She stared at Tom confused at how he was able to read anything with the message changing so frequently.
"What do these all say?" She lifted her hand to reach out and put her fingers near the bark but Tom's hand shot out quickly, grabbing it and placing it back down at her side.
"Don't touch it until I say so." His words were final and she nodded softly before he answered her question. He continued to move around the tree studying it as he spoke. "It's telling us how we need to enter the tree."
"We have to go inside the tree?" She said with a small pang of dread resounding her stomach, the tree suddenly looked rather ominous to her and she didn't feel like it was going to take them anywhere pleasant.
"Where else would we go?" Hermione couldn't have said why, but the odd smile he gave her with his response suddenly chiller her and had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up with might.
"So how does it say we get in then?" She found took a step back as Tom suddenly stood up from his crouched reading position and began reading some of the inscriptions higher up on the tree.
He ignored her, of course. She huffed and rolled her eyes when he turned and turned her attention back to the tree, her eyes now trying to search for any trace of a resemblance to any Runes she might possibly know.
Her attention shifted quickly when Tom finally stepped back with his arm out, pushing Hermione away from the tree about a foot and a half or so before raising his wand into the air. His wand swished intricately in front of him and he began to speak very softly, as though he were whispering to the tree itself.
The first thing to catch her attention was the incantation that Tom had begun to recite, it was unlike any language she'd learned. It sounded as though it were Latin but maybe a thousand years older, more ancient with more guttural language and harsh endings and sounds to the words. She didn't even attempt to pick words out of whatever he was speaking, it was barely a human dialect that she could tell.
She felt her eyes widen as the Runes suddenly began to spin while they changed, their changings happening just a little faster now. The rows of runes spinning at different speeds and directions made what was already what she deemed impossible, to try and understand anything the tree was saying. Following the slowly accelerated movements of the Runes came a soft sound of humming, as though miles away, the echo of a large herd of Cicadas was traveling around them. The sound, although very soft and gentle at first, soon picked up speed and sound slowly with the moving tree. The more Tom moved his wand and continued speaking, the faster things happened.
Hermione noticed the glow from the tree almost immediately after the humming began, a eerie red glow, so soft that at first glance it appeared as though the tree had spring millions of blood red veins and was leaking, giving it a far more ominous appearance than when they first approached it. Tom was speaking faster now, his voice growing louder to match the hum of the tree, their tones matching one another. The spinning, brighter glowing red light, and now frantically transfiguring Runes were now a blur in her eyes, giving it the appearance that it was spinning in place like a thick blood red tornado dug into the ground.
Her eyes began to cringe in annoyance, pinging a small pain behind her eyes as she tried to continue to watch the tree yet she couldn't find it in herself to look away, no matter how dizzy and nauseous the movement was beginning to make her feel.
She gasped loudly when Tom's hand suddenly grabbed her arm rather roughly and ripped her back from where she had moved too, unawares. She had been standing with her hand moving slowly up as if to touch the tree, her feet carrying her towards it while she paid no attention. Though her small mistake didn't stop his concentration in any way it seemed, the language he spoke was so fast and loud that she wanted to cover her ears and shut her eyes.
The words and language sounded so rough, rude, and guttural that it made her feel a sudden pang of fear and uncertainty of what she was about to be facing, a large part of her felt as though it would be a sudden yet rather frightening death. His arm grabbing her jerked her quickly back into reality as though she'd been doused with cold water and she was now shaking slightly, her hand curled around Tom's free arm to make sure she stayed put.
Stop shaking. This is what you wanted to come do. You begged him to let you help him with this. You are not scared. You have been through so much more, just because Harry and Ron aren't here, doesn't mean you are worthless and you're going to die. You're just as clever as the both of them and-
Her inner pep talk was cut off abruptly by Tom grabbing her hand, still shouting in the language and waving his wand though his demeanor was quite different than it had been a little while ago. He now appropriately looked as though he had been hiking uphill for a long period of time for he had small beads of sweat running down the side of his forehead down to his cheeks. A light sheen of perspiration dotted across his face which was now flushed a soft red and his teeth were clenched although he kept speaking loudly and clearly.
He gripped Hermione's hand tight and then still facing the tree and speaking began to walk her forward towards the area of the tree that had the large crack all around it. Looking at the area now, she could see a small nearly invisible pinkish line showing the outline of what now appeared to be the door to their final destination.
"NOW!" Tom's shout spurred her forward and together they leapt straight into the doorway as though they were leaping through the platform at 9 ¾. She felt a warm sensation across her body where it sank through the tree and then she was falling to the floor, sinking to her knees with the brace of impact and letting go of Tom's grip as she pushed her hands out to catch herself before she planted her face down just as hard.
"Hermione, are you alright?" She sat up slowly rubbing her hands that had been scrapped rather roughly open on what she now perceived to be stone or rock floors beneath her. She bit her lip to keep tears from springing up to show how truly bad they stung her.
She looked up from her hands and although her stomach held a pending sense of dread, felt slight relief at the look of the room they'd entered. It was off putting however, to say the least. The room they wound up seemed to be a rather perfect replica of what she would assume to Kendra Dumbledore's bed room. A nicely made med on a curled fanciful metal princess frame sat against the wall facing a window seat, the covers and decorations over the bed were white and lacy with pink accents weaved through it.
The room was covered in a white wall-paper with a rather old floral design muted with pale pastel four petaled flowers dancing across it. There was a rather large bookshelf taking up a large portion of the room as well as a chest sitting beside the desk that was nearly half the desks size. A large mirror hung on the wall opposite the bed and window with curling metal décor to match the bed. It was a rather nice and polite lady's room, but several things were abnormally different.
The wall paper that hung up the bed was in shreds and the wooden wall behind it gouged with what Hermione guessed was blood and nail marks where the paper was ripped away. There was a rather beat up looking doll laying on the bed that looked as though it had been through the mill and back twice before landing. It's clothes were rather ratty and ruined, stained with dirt and other things to that Hermione wasn't necessarily positive what color the doll's dress, or any other part of it's anatomy, had truly been when it was new.
The longer she looked at the doll, the more uncomfortable and slightly disturbed she began to feel. Parts of it's face were cracked and it had one or two small pieces that had broken off leaving empty black holes revealing the doll's inner head. It's hair was braided but it was feeble and sickly looking. Patches were missing and there now seemed to be more bald spots on the doll rather than hair.
It's smile was rather twisted and send chills up her spine as it smiled up at her, it's mouth filled with large square teeth, many of which disappeared or were stained with something with such an odd texture that she was laying bets that it was old food that had been force fed to the things empty head socket many times in it's very tragic long life. She attempted to keep looking around the room but found that her attention kept sliding back to the doll which was scaring her more and more by the second, though she couldn't say why it was having that effect.
"Don't touch anything unless I tell you too, do you understand? This entire room is a trap and all it takes is one wrong guess and you won't want to be around for what happens…" His voice trailed off and he gave her a last warning looking before walking forward to walk next to the doll.
"What is that thing? Was that hers?" She unconsciously felt her feet pulling her so that she stood slightly behind Tom as though he would protect her from this small broken glass demon.
"It didn't look like this when she had it no. She very much loved and cared for this doll, she took it everywhere with her. Her mother had it made for her so that it looked just like her and resembled her in whatever she wore or how she felt. She was supposed to be buried with it but Albus couldn't seem to let it go, probably all he felt he had left after she died."
"So why does it look like that now?" She wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.
"Well, Dumbledore finally reversed the little charm his mother had on the doll, but after Kendra died, the doll continued to change with Kendra-"
"Oh my God…" She felt her voice trail off, the horror at something like that making her sick to her stomach.
"It was gruesome, Dumbledore couldn't put the doll back unless he planned to open his dear sister's casket and that's just one of the few things Dumbledore didn't feel like he could handle. However, the doll had decomposed a good bit before he was able to take the charm off. Rather scary and sick the way it happened, honestly." He sounded almost thoughtful for a second.
"So where's the wand?" She said looking around, her eyes falling to the locked chest that lay next to the desk but told herself that that spot would've been much too easy.
However, his question was answered quickly when she turned and found Tom face to face with a rather large portrait that she'd somehow missed when first examining the room, however she had a sudden thought that maybe it wasn't there when she first entered the room.
"That's Kendra, isn't it?" She walked up beside him and felt chills move up her spine.
The painting, unlike all the paintings she saw daily in Hogwarts, was unmoving in nature. Instead, the girl in the painting sat still facing forward watching with familiar large blue eyes that if the painting were to move, would be twinkling just like her brothers. The girl was giving an almost ominous Mona Lisa type smile and after a moment of looking at it, began to make her skin crawl with goosebumps.
The scene behind the girl was undoubtedly the house they were standing in but many of the features were dark and ominous and the longer she stared at it, the more the details made her want to look away. The windows of the house were painted a light grey with large dark shadow in their corners, faces and eyes peering at the looker of the painting. The grass and flowers around her decayed and withered and the smile on the girl's face became more knowing with each second. Hermione felt herself forced to look away.
He stepped closer to the painting and lifted his hand waving it over it softly and she felt a slight wind came across her face. She watched as he waved his hand over the painting once more and the features of the painting began to change drastically, and Hermione let go a small gasp from her lips, which had begun to tremble slightly at what she was watching.
The small smile on the girl's face began to fade slowly turning into a frown and sinking further down, dropping as low as the girl's face would allow. The blank beautiful features that accompanied a girl of her age began to sink with it, the eyes growing slowly more sunken in and the creases in her face deepening with each second. She watched with a fascination as the face began to age but after a moment Hermione realized the girl wasn't aging, she was decaying.
Her fascination turned to horror as she watched the girl's skin begin to melt away, large holes rotting into her face, what was once porcelain colored skin was slowly turning grey and blackening as it melted away from her face.
It was now with an utter disgust Hermione watched, Kendra's skin began to fall away from her skin showing the rotted, withering muscles beneath, turning the once slight smile into a terrifying joker's grin showing all the teeth in her mouth. Her lips peeled away, hanging at the corner of her mouth momentarily before falling to the ground with the rest of her now fading appearance.
"Tom…" She spoke softly as the girl's skin disappeared, the clothes she wore tattered and rotted through, the color fading from her eyes as they slow disintegrated leaving way for only darkness in the empty recesses where the eyes belonged.
Slowly everything perished away and the girl in the portrait was nothing more than a dirty withered skeleton in a torn rotted dress. Hermione stared at the photo and a dark thought crossed her mind, this was what Ariana looked like now, buried six feet beneath the earth, laid next to her mother and father dead.
Her thoughts were immediately interrupted by Tom's swift actions, his hand shooting into the painting where the girl stood. He grimaced and cursed aloud.
"What are you doing?" She exclaimed coming forward reaching for his arm, but he pushed her away sending her stumbling back onto her butt.
"Stay back!" His voice was thick with anger and pain. Hermione stood up and ignored his command and realized immediately why he was in such pain. "If you come any closer I-fuck!"
His hand was withering inside the portrait, just as Ariana had done moments ago, the color of his skin greying as his hand searched around within the painting, his face trying to regain the composure it usually held but was failing.
"Tom, your hand is going to fall off." She was feeling slightly frantic as she watched him stick his arm in further. "Tom! Please let me do something!"
"Hermione, be quiet!" His voice was angry, but Hermione could see that small spots on his hand were beginning to grow and his sleeves were beginning to tear and mold away.
Whatever he was in there for, he must've found it for he suddenly ripped his arm from the portrait, falling back where he'd just pushed Hermione minutes ago. Hermione raced forward grasping his arm and found herself gagging involuntarily at the sight of his hand. The clothing was threadbare and had acquired a musty scent, but it was nothing compared to the smell of rotting flesh that his hand and much of his arm was now bathed in. The skin itself was sagging and felt almost as if it were wet, the soft pliable texture of it allowed her fingers to dig into it easily as if it were nothing but dough. She felt a slight pang of excitement when she saw that his decaying fist was enclosed around a very old withered wand.
"Oh…oh god." She moved her sleeve to cover her nose trying to block the scent. "At least you got the wand…Tom can this be fixed?"
He groaned and sat up, using his good hand to reach into his jacket pocket. He struggled around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a rather large bottle of a dark purple colored potion. He forced it into Hermione's lap.
"You need to open it and lather it across my hand and arm, now. Hurry or the effects from the curse won't go away….now Hermione!" She struggled with the bottle her hands shaking slightly.
She grabbed the tattered sleeve of his jacket and shirt and ripped it down, tearing it from the jacket and throwing it the side, uncorking the bottle shakily and pouring the thick goopy substance across his arm. Hermione felt herself gag slightly, the skin moving in some unnaturally soggy way as she rubbed the potion into it, the mixed smell of the liquid and his skin gagging her. Slowly as moments passed, the skin on his arm began to firm under her fingers though not by much.
"It'll take a while before it's back to normal, if it will ever go back to normal. I can't say for certain it will ever be the same." He winced as he pulled his arm away from her, reaching back into his pocket to retrieve a roll of gauze bandages. "Hurry up and wrap it so the potion will stay put."
Once his arm and hand were wrapped accordingly they stood and she looked around feeling slightly confused.
"That seemed a bit light…didn't it? I mean that was it? That was a little too easy." She looked around the room uneasily, her body beginning to take on a skittish approach.
The small laugh that left Tom's throat didn't help.
"Fortunately yes. It takes a great knowledge of dark arts magic to enter the tree and even more to leave it. The picture there, took me eight months to perfect that curse and without this potion, which I created to counteract the curse, is only known to me and Dumbledore himself. Anyone else tried to come in here and take that wand, they'd be dead. This curse spreads with no cure and eventually, you'll find yourself rotting to death, your organs keeping you alive to watch your skin and bones melt away." Hermione felt goosebumps on her arms raise when she realized that he sounded almost proud of himself.
"So how do we leave?" She grabbed his upper arm and helped him stand. "Will we have to go back to the forest?"
"Yes and we'll have to track our way back but I still haven't forgotten about our little guests we ran into before we made our way here, someone is keeping watch over the area or at least trying too."