Disclaimer: Not mine.

The Chasm

Chapter 2

Still at it?

"I don't believe you stayed up all night sorting out bookshelves." Neville quipped walking into the dungeon storage rooms.

"All night? What time is it?"

"Let me put it this way. You better hurry if you want breakfast."

"No, but a cuppa would hit the spot," she said tiredly. "With no windows, I lost track of time."

"Find anything?"

"Well, I am not sure, but I think so. I am trying to find what's missing."

"Umm, Hermione, if it's missing how will you know what it is?"

"Smart arse," she grinned up at him.

"The floo is open, that or you can hit the bed in my chambers. I am off to lessons and Hannah is already gone."

"I'd like that. I do want to finish this room and there is more in the old bedchamber behind the bookcase. The books aren't even on the shelves in there."

"He had an elf you know. Get Minerva to order her to help you, that or… you don't have to do this at all. It's been trashed for ten years and just gets worse each time Minerva refuses to throw something out and hides it down here."

"He had his own elf? I thought he hated elves. I thought he hated everyone. Anyway, you should see the books down here! It's like a giant treasure hunt. Half of them are so old I am afraid to touch them, and such books! Beautifully handwritten, engravings and… sorry. "

Neville shrugged and ginned at her. "She was him mum's. Seems when her mum died, Eileen Prince inherited the family's elf, she sent it here to wait on him when he was old enough for school. Since she couldn't keep it, she must have thought it was the next best thing and that after that he would want it. Guess it never happened."

"In my knitting days I heard that he didn't allow elves down here," she puzzled.

"You haven't met Millie, she can be quite the handful," he laughed loudly. "I am surprised she hasn't been down here already scolding you for disturbing her master's books."

"Elves avoid me," Hermione said flatly. "Shut up, Neville, don't say it."

"Wouldn't think of it," he said laughing. "So, you know where my chambers are?"

"Yeah, I just need a couple hours of sleep and I'll be fine." She stood and stretched her cramped muscles. "Maybe you can ask this Millie to talk to me?"

"Sure, just sleep first. She is something like you in one regard. If you ask for her help now, she will get right to it and not let you sleep until it's finished. Now go."

"Neville, about yesterday…I don't want you to think…"

"I'm glad you said it. Kids forget, or don't know what war is. They only see the medals and statues; they need to know about what truly happens. The dead bodies and what killing does to people. Hannah still has trouble sometimes. Thunder, loud noises, even the smell of the fireplace will set her off. "

"I was concerned that you may think…"

"I'll let you know when something bothers me. Now go. Sleep."

Hermione did just that, lying down on Neville and Hannah's bed she shut her eyes and was asleep before a tiny elf popped in with a tray of tea. It did not matter that Hermione was sleeping as Millie planned to wait. She did not like people poking and prodding into her master's chambers and planned to keep her eye on this one. The Elf walked up to the bed and peered in the sleeping face, using one long finger and lifting hair off the woman's face, trying to discern who it was.

Jumping back in horror, recognising the great crusader, she ran behind a chair that sat in the corner, thinking this was a better place to wait, not thinking to leave, since she was to do this work for her master. She patted her head and looked around the room, then made a mad dash to the fireplace she dumped the floo powder box on her head. Smiling and quite pleased that now, a hat would not fit.

.

Hermione woke in only a couple of hours, as had become her habit in the last year or so. She moaned and rolled to her back, wishing the dreams would stop, wishing that occasionally she could remain asleep until she woke on her own. Since Ronald had first left for his summer with Charlie, her dreams and nightmares had only become worse. At first, she had thought it was the stress of her job, and then the stress of her marriage, but once she resigned herself to the impending divorce they had not lessened. Not only had they not lessened, but they had grown stronger, as if the longer from the war, the more she couldn't forget.

After a silently served tea from a very nervous elf, Hermione decided to take a walk through the castle. It had been years since she had been here and wanted to revisit her old haunts before the students got out of class and the professors were free to disturb her peace. Once on the astronomy tower, she called Millie who brought a hot cup of tea, handing it to Hermione before quickly disappearing with a look of smugness in the fact she knew how her charge took her tea.

Holding the cup in both hands Hermione brought it to her nose and smelled the deep bitter vapour that curled over the rim of the cup. Then, lifting her head, she looked out to the lake. She saw the sparkling ripples caused by a gentle breeze as it wafted over the water. Letting her eyes travel to the shore she watched the students circle back to the castle on the eastern path, then turned and saw the path on the west, remembering walking it herself on the way to the Whomping Willow.

She set the cup down and walked to the edge, peering down and studying what she had seen everyday for almost seven years. The confluence of the east and west path was not the gentle curve she remembered, not from here, not from this view. The lines were angular, angular and precise.

Running to the opposite side of the platform she leaned over the edge, looking down and saw the east and west path cross one another behind the castle, no longer keeping direction, no longer in a graceful arch, but continuing on in harsh straight lines.

"Odal," she muttered aloud, knowing the castle itself sat in the middle of the O of the ancient rune.

Looking toward the Forbidden Forest, she saw the straight path that ended at Hagrid's hut, dividing, as if a fork in the road and not the rune it was. Algiz, she thought.

She dug in her pockets looking for her cell phone, feeling foolish as she did, but needing to talk. Stomping her feet and clapping she screamed out for Millie at the same time scanning the opposite side of the castle, up towards the Quidditch Pitch. Sowilo.

"Yes, Missus of Weasley."

"Don't say that," she scowled. "I am Miss Granger."

"Yes, Missus of…yes Missus." Millie choked on the words; unable to say what she knew was not true in this world.

"Fine," Hermione ground out. "I need my handbag…no, it won't work anyway. I need… fuck."

"Missus?" Millie looked over her shoulder and back at Hermione.

"I need A History of Hogwarts, the first edition, the oldest. No, not that…it wouldn't have had a history yet…something on the original building, how the founders planned this place…even before that. Anything on this valley before the castle was built."

Millie reached her hand to Hermione. "I takes you."

"Thanks," Hermione sighed, knowing that elf travel was faster but more disorientating then anything else.

Feeling the squeeze and spinning sensation begin, she gritted her teeth, suddenly thinking of the height difference between her and Millie and hoping she did not fall on her face when she landed. Once she picked her self up from the floor, she was surprised to find herself back in the dungeon storage room.

"Millie, I need the library."

Millie rushed into the destroyed room, dug in the pile of books and picked up the one Hermione had requested, placing it reverently in her hands and bowing deeply before retrieving another and placing it on the table. Hermione looked from the book in her hands to the shelves and grinned, as she suddenly understood the numbers and symbols stencilled on the spines of the books.

"Runes." She snorted a laugh. "That git used a rune counting system, that son of a bitch! Millie, your master was a bloody genius."

Millie's face darkened and she scowled, putting her hands on her hips and pointed a shaking finger at Hermione.

"No!" she said a second before she threw out a blast of magic, toppling Hermione onto the floor. "He is my Eileen's."

"Yeah, well…sorry." She winced as she felt her back spasm from the fall.

"Mrs. Weasley, what is the meaning of this?" Minerva stood at the entrance to the storage room.

"I was looking for something," Hermione rubbed her bum and scowled at Millie.

"I must ask you to leave these quarters. They are not open to the public and I will not have them destroyed."

"Pro…Headmistress, why are his books still down here?"

Minerva gazed around the room, her eyes looking to Millie, before turning back to Hermione. "It was the Professor's wish that his belongings stay here for a term before his bequest to the school became final."

"That's odd," Hermione muttered, looking at the tome that lay on the table with obvious envy.

"Given his…profession...not odd at all. He often disappeared, often for days at a time. I think he wanted to make sure if he was ever…indisposed ….for a lengthily time, his books would still be here upon his return."

"Minerva, it has been ten years. Harry and I saw him die."

"That may be, however, our legal department agrees that his bequest holds."

"How much longer before they are opened to research?"

"Two more years, Mrs. Weasley. I am sure you can wait a bit longer to tear into his belongings. Furthermore, at that time I am afraid certain items must be thoroughly inspected before allowing …"

"What? You intend to censure his books? You cannot mean it. That …that is… that should be illegal."

"At that time you may take your concerns to the Ministry. I, however, will not allow the dark arts to be unleashed again, and if my guess is correct many of his tomes were devoted to that subject."

"Bull shite, we need to know the dark arts if we are ever going to understand them and fight against them," she muttered under her breath. "I may read in here? If I promise not to remove anything?"

"Mrs. Weasley, these chambers are…"

"I know his system now. I will gladly restore the other room to the proper order, in keeping with his…wishes and his sorting method. I will even offer to come back in two years time and sort them correctly for the library."

"I think not. Nor do I want this to turn into one of your many projects, Mrs. Weasley. This room has been off limits to students since the conflict and for good reason. The outer wall is unsafe. I do not want students wandering…"

"Just the rest of the day, Minerva. I am sure it will not take much longer than a few hours," Hermione said tersely. "I could petition the Board of Governors if you would prefer. If you force me to do that, this…this mausoleum will become public knowledge. Do you want that?"

"Fine, you will not mind if I leave Millie with you? Millie, do make sure the rules are obeyed and she is done by the end of the work day."

"Of course not," Hermione turned back to the elf. "What is she anyway? Some sort of attack elf?"

"She is…overly loyal to the school and this area. You should be familiar with the idea. At one time I thought the same of you."

"When did we get off on such a bad foot, Minerva? Even the last time I was here, you didn't want me in these sacred halls. What have I done to offend you?"

"You have made a travesty of our laws, Mrs Weasley, and belittled our fallen. I, unfortunately, can do nothing to keep you away. Although until today, I thought you had made your decision to do just that, and leave our world. However, if you continue to …visit…I may need to ask you to come only when term is out."

"I see," Hermione spoke evenly, fighting not to rail at the older witch. "I am corrupting the morals of your students? Or is it the fact that I do not wish to live here?"

"Your words, not mine. In this world, divorce is frowned upon, as it should be, as is taking the education and training you have been afforded and doing nothing with it. Do make sure you extinguish the candles when you are done." Minerva spun around and walked down the hall, her heels tapping on the stone floor.

"Since you knew exactly where that book was, I know you remember exactly how the books were kept on the shelves." Hermione waited until Minerva was out of earshot then turned to Millie. "Then, I trust that you have a reason for not sorting them out eons ago."

"Yes, Missus Hermione Granger." Millie's ears drooped and she twisted her hands together in anguish.

"Thank you, Millie," Hermione smiled at the use of her maiden name. "I am sorry, but he's not coming back. No matter how much you want him too."

"I am house of Snape," the elf wailed.

"Oh…yes, well," she stammered not knowing what to say. "After the time is up will you go with the books? You know…then you would be a Hogwarts Elf."

Mille ran her arm over her eyes, wiping off her tears before nodding her head sadly and running out of the room and into the bedchamber to begin her work. Hermione frowned and followed her as far as the door.

"Millie, I asked you why you have not done this sooner."

"The secret books."

"Yes," Hermione sighed, looking back at the rows of books. "I imagine there are several down here. Do you know which ones those would be?"

Millie shook her head and sniffed loudly.

"Millie, how many books on old runes are here?" She saw Millie's blank face and tried again. "Did he ever say, or did you ever overhear him talk about… about etchings, something before runes? Maybe…languages…or….something he was excited to have found."

"No, not Missus Weasley."

"Are all his books on the shelves or on the floor in there?"

"No, not Missus Weasley."

"Millie," Hermione squatted down and studied the elf, seeing the worried look and the way she wrung her hands. "If he had…important things …historically important…and I promise to give him credit for the research he has already done… will you show them to me?"

Mille sniffed loudly, and dragged her ears as she walked to the bed, climbed up on the wooden canopy, and tossed four books down to the matrices. She looked down at Hermione sadly and with a loud wail put her hand into one of the corner posts, and pulled out a scroll and passed it down as well.

Hermione could not believe what she held in the hands. She had no idea how to read the ancient script, nor any understanding of how old it was, but the carefully drawn representations of the same new runes that she had seen at the museum now looked back at her. She ran her finger over the fabric that had tied it closed, not even able to identify the part of the world it came from.

"Thank you," she flopped on the edge of the bed, unable to keep her knees from buckling.

"You takes care and says it master's."

"Millie…I … I am going to try to take pictures of it…but … when I am done you hide it again. I'd be afraid to move it from here." She carried it carefully to the table in the outer room, intent on examining it as much as she could, and short of that to capture its image on her camera in the short amount of time she had left.

Later that night she flooed back to the Leaky Cauldron and stepped out to Muggle London, again flipping her cell open but this time calling the Museum.

"Hermione? What in damnation do you want? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah, listen, Frank, you know that new stone tablet they found, the one with the runes they found in Albania?"

"Sure, what about it?"

"It's not Elder Futhark, it's the parent. It predates anything we have seen. And, listen to this, those new markings, they're not ruses…they are part of the parent language."

"And you know this how?"

"I can't give you anything concrete, not yet, but trust me on this."

"Another one of your feelings?"

"When have I steered you wrong, Frank?"

"Oh, once a week for the past …three years now. Okay, what do you want me to do about it?"

"Sit it on, don't let anyone near it. No one. Got it?"

"What have we got here, Hermione?"

"I don't know yet, but we can't let it out, not yet. Frank, if this is the parent, if this is truly what I think it is, it could go back more then a thousand years before any known alphabet. Frank, listen…what if the runes were not based on the known alphabets, but reversed? The alphabets on the runes. We have to make sure before we announce what we have but I can't shake it…it fits."

"Holy shite," Frank muttered. "If this is what you think it is we just made news."

"News? Frank, it this is what I think it is we just made history. I need you to do one thing, send me a picture on your cell, then erase it, and for heavens sake keep your mouth shut."

"Got it. You coming in?"

"No, I will be out researching. Make up an excuse for me, okay? Put me on sabbatical, anything…I need time."

"Right, you need anything you call."

"There may not be cell-towers. I can't trust that my phone will work, or that I'll even be able to charge it."

"Pick up a new one when you get where ever you are going, and a set of adapters. Put the cost on your expense account. Don't worry about us. Just… find what you are looking for."

"Frank, lock it up. Put it somewhere…fuck, get it off site and somewhere no one would think to look. Do not take it home, if this gets out it will be the most valuable thing in the Museum. Protect it."

Hermione lifted her arm and flagged down a taxi, excited about work for the first time since Ronald had left.