After the disappointment on the Astronomy Tower, Hermione continued to trudge forward, trying not to lament how little the setback affected her mood. She collected the ingredients she needed from Slughorn's store room, shoving them into her bag carelessly to be sorted through later. Rather than measure out exact amounts, Hermione simply took generous allotments of each ingredient.
As she was walking back to her dorm, someone shouted her name, startling her. Hermione looked down and noticed that she was no longer blending in with the stone behind her. Slughorn must have taken more precautions than she had bargained for, wiping away her Disillusionment Charm.
"Hi, Charlus," she replied evenly. "What are you doing out so late?"
"I'm just coming back from visiting Dorea. I suppose time slipped away from me," Charlus continued sheepishly.
Bitterness filled Hermione's mouth at the mention of Dorea's name. "You're still committed to staying with her, then?"
"Yes," Charlus replied, a bit hurt. "She's not gone, Hermione. She's still here, she's just—" Charlus trailed off, seemingly unable to say what Dorea was.
Hermione's hand strayed to her bag. She was tempted to pull out the huge book and give it to Charlus. Her emotions were all over the map, but she knew that it was unfair for Charlus not to know how much Dorea loved another person, so much so that she almost dosed herself with a love potion. But despite the fact that Hermione felt nothing for Tom at the moment, she had to be true to the person she knew she was underneath the potion, and that person would not want Charlus to know that Tom had been threatening Dorea. Because even if the diary had the intended effect and Charlus moved on from Dorea, he would never keep Tom's attack a secret, and it was obvious from Dorea's final pages who she was terrified of.
Still, she had to do what she could to inform Charlus about the important parts of the diary; it was her responsibility to Harry's ancestor. And after going over bloodlines with Draco, she knew that Charlus was not Harry's grandfather, so she no longer needed to concern herself with preserving her best friend's birth.
"Charlus, I know this is very painful for you. Do you think you could meet me tomorrow? Please don't ask me how I've come across them, but I have some pages from Dorea's diary and I feel you should have them."
Charlus's expressive face conveyed shock and indignation in equal measure. "Did you read them?"
"Yes," Hermione replied without breaking Charlus's gaze. "And when you do, you will understand why I did."
"Can we meet first thing in the morning?" Charlus asked after a few moments of processing.
"The library after breakfast, then?" Hermione almost offered to meet him before, but she needed to lose herself to sleep, now that she knew it was the only time when she was herself again.
"I'll see you then." Charlus started to walk away, but then turned back. "And thanks, Hermione."
Once she was within the confines of her living room, she hesitated between the two bedrooms. Part of Hermione thought she owed it to Tom to knock on his door and tell him that she knew everything and that she was working on the antidote as quickly as possible. He obviously knew about her current love-potion induced state, and the last time she could truly remember feeling normal she had reminded Tom that she loved him. But the idea of seeing Tom right now with the knowledge that the hollowness she felt had nothing to do with him but everything to do with what Dorea had done to her seemed too much to bear. Besides, Hermione reassured herself, Tom would have read the diary in full and done his own research on the cure. The reason he gave it to me is probably because he knew I had to pick the poppy myself. And then he would know the timeline as well.
These thoughts comforted her as she went into her own room, digging into the diary in order to focus on the one emotion that was wholly her own: anger. Toward Dorea.
The following day, Tom smoothed his hair for the fifteenth time that morning before performing a quick Scourgify on his already spotless robes. He nodded to his reflection, finally satisfied with his appearance.
Last weekend had been a low point; he had lashed out at Hermione, not because he had planned to do so, but because he had been provoked. And he hated feeling out of control. The trouble was that matters already were out of his control. There was nothing to do on the Hermione front but wait. Tom knew he could not keep demanding that she finish Dorea's diary; both times he had brought the subject up involved embarrassing displays of emotion. That was already difficult for Tom, but coupled with Hermione's responding blank stare it felt impossible to confront her a third time.
So, he had poured his energy into something else, forcing himself to think about his future separate from Hermione. His seven years at Hogwarts were coming to a close, and thinking about that fact made him realize that his distress over Hermione was not the only thing stopping him from accepting Slughorn's Ministry connections.
Tom would sincerely miss the castle. There was the chamber that had proved to him that he was truly special; he had been the first person to discover his ancestor's well-kept secret in centuries. There was the aura of magic in every hallway, stronger than he had felt anywhere else, including Knockturn or Diagon Alley. And unlike at the orphanage, he had the respect and admiration of nearly everyone in the castle.
And thinking about this made him realize the was not prepared to say goodbye to this place. There had been too many goodbyes. And that is why today had to be perfect—he had written to Dippet requesting an audience, keeping the request intentionally vague. Tom knew he was more convincing in person than on paper. And Dippet was going to give him the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.
Hermione brought some of her books to breakfast, shoving the selected diary pages in between Numerology: An Intensive Study of the Number Three and Challenging Charms, Volume Two. The diary had put up more of a fight than she had expected, extracting from her the extra sleep she had expected to gain from the late meeting time. When she first tried to tear out a page, she had been entirely unprepared for retaliation. The taste of copper invaded her senses as a stream of blood shot out, going into her open mouth and up her nose.
Hermione spat up the blood, but didn't too much time cleaning herself off because she realized it was blood magic. Most blood magic was ancient and required blood to work. Hermione wasn't sure if the diary would accept her own blood as tribute, but the blood spurting out of it seemed like a better bet to start with.
She continued to prod the book, attacking it by attempting to take out pages, but this time she was prepared. She collected the blood as best as she could and soon she had several vials filled with what she presumed was Dorea's blood, a blood-stained comforter, and hair sticky with the red substance. Wiping her hands off on her pajamas—which had already been lost to the bloody mess—Hermione picked up her wand and Accio'd her Ancient Runes textbooks, hoping the ancient language would proof useful.
First, she tried simply pouring one of the vials onto the page she wanted, making sure to coat the binding. That didn't work. She then moved to the inner cover of the diary and began to try writing different words with the blood (in Ancient Runes).
The twenty-seventh time was the charm: Open.
She had tried to be more specific about the action she wanted to perform, but the simplest charm was the best, opening the diary up to more diverse uses than reading and writing.
After that, she carefully chose the pages she wanted, ensuring that she painted as clear a picture for Charlus as possible without endangering Tom. In the end, she had over thirty full pages where both sides were both safe and relevant. (Hermione had felt that selecting excerpts and trying to rip the pages into pieces or blotting out the words would seem suspicious to Charlus, and so went for quality over quantity). There was still plenty of material that covered years, explaining Dorea's plans for the love potion, her continuing secret meetings with Abraxas, and above all, countless passages that broke Hermione's heart for Charlus.
Hermione felt Charlus's eyes on her throughout breakfast and in the end, stopped eating her toast midway through to beckon him to leave.
He followed immediately, not bothering to be subtle as he waved for her to wait as he crossed the room.
"Do you have them?" He asked breathlessly after he rushed across the Great Hall. His face was flushed and there were more dark circles under his eyes than there had been the night before.
Hermione nodded, walking toward the hall that was entirely empty as everyone else was still enjoying their breakfast (or simply had not left their beds yet). She pulled the pages out from between her textbooks and handed them over to Charlus.
Charlus looked between the pages and Hermione. "Is there anything I should know before I read these?"
Hermione swallowed hard; she hadn't been expecting the question, especially considering his annoyance the previous night about her even having them.
"I think it's best if you read them with a clean slate," Hermione said evenly.
Charlus nodded solemnly, walking off without another word, heading in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.