Procyon Mask - Chapter 14
Later that morning Barty was absent from the bedroom, as new tradition dictated. Hermione could still remember his fingers on her, the feel of his lips against her cheek, a stray tongue collecting her tears after a time.
The memory sent a shiver down her body and she had flung herself into the shower in his absence to get rid of the feeling of his hands on her 'unconscious' body. There was simply no mistaking it at this point: Barty was insane.
Maybe it was the extra year in Azkaban or it had something to do with his father apparently keeping him under the imperius curse for nearly half his life. But the man was bloody insane to tell her that he wasn't interested in raping her, didn't care about the child being a half-blood, and then bloody kissing and licking her tears away while she was was having a damn nightmare. Supposed to be having a nightmare, he had succeeded in coaxing her out of it to a degree. She just wasn't sure if she should be thankful or not.
What she woke up to had been even more bizarre than her dream, and when she was done with her shower, having dressed in a rather simple dress he was just… sitting in the bloody garden again.
Hermione is staring and though she knows she shouldn't - what with her eyes being too telling - she can't stop herself. Because he looks just like he did last weekend. The only difference is his plate isn't empty yet. It's still just toast with some jam or butter to spread over them, a cup of hot tea, but…
She clears her throat. "I'm sorry I didn't come find you last night. I was exhausted when I got here."
Barty's gaze flickers up and she hopes he didn't notice how long she had been standing in the doorway before speaking. That he didn't mention it. She wasn't sure what to say if he asked about last night or spoke about her having a fit in her sleep.
"It's fine. I was wondering why you kept insisting on having the medallion bring you to me when you came back." His fingers tap on the table, gaze flickering around the garden for a moment. Perhaps remembering her little tantrum from last weekend. "You don't need to wait for my permission to sit. There's no ghost here to take your seat."
Hermione quickly nods her head, ignoring the burn in her cheeks and steps forward to take her seat. She takes a gulp from her tea first, hoping to get rid of any embarrassment from his words, keeping an eye on him.
His gaze meets hers and her hand stops in bringing the cup down, heart catching in her throat.
"Are you feeling okay? Did something happen at Hogwarts?"
She forces the rest of the tea down her throat before speaking, "No. Nothing happened." Of course he didn't look convinced by her answer, dark eyes boring into hers… She supposes now is probably the best time for her to bring up the incident in the parlor. At least to throw off any suspicion that she had actually woken up earlier and that's why she was… shaken, to say the least. "I was looking through the Restricted Section earlier, that's all."
His brow arches just as she figured it would. "What for?"
Hermione glances down to her plate, contemplating how best to word things, to make sure he would answer her. She brushes her finger over the knife, unsure if she should just drop the topic. Spread some jam over her toast and leave Barty to come to his own conclusions.
But that wouldn't really solve anything. And if he was serious about not hurting her… there shouldn't be any reason for him to retaliate. Theoretically.
She bites her lip, raising her head back up once more. "Before I left last weekend and you asked me to wait in the parlor… Something messed with the medallion."
Barty blinks, for once his gaze was uncertain. Good. She didn't know how or why but she had managed to surprise him in such a way that he hadn't immediately hidden his own emotion. Something he was fairly talented at. "What do you mean by something messed with the medallion?"
"Well… when I entered the parlor this song was playing. It had a weird melody and a woman was singing along with it, but I couldn't make out the words very well. I got closer with the intention to turn it off, but then I entered some sort of trance. Or it felt that way at least. I couldn't find anything in the library about it, restricted or not. The medallion was glowing when I pulled it from my pocket and it felt like… something was calling to me. Before I could make sense of it I dropped the medallion by accident, which seemed to break the trance. But before then whatever it was was urging me to cut my finger on the gems."
Barty's eyes only narrow when she's done explaining, fingers tapping once more on the table. "You said the medallion was glowing? How?"
Hermione barely stops herself from releasing a sigh of relief. It seemed like he was actually going to cooperate with her. Thank god. He was much more knowledgeable about the dark arts than she was and it was his medallion to begin with. If anyone knew what had happened it would be him. "It was like the gems changed color: gold, blue, and red. I thought it was reacting to the song, but like I said, my research into the matter was inconclusive."
"That's not surprising." Barty leans back in his chair, his composure relaxed once more. "The song had little to do with it. You remember the binding ritual from our marriage?" Hermione nods, though she's not sure why that would be relevant here. "During the ceremony Lucius cut both of us and our blood mixed before the ritual was complete. The medallion was reacting to another enchantment I put on it, mistaking your blood for mine."
She feels her heart stop. "What? Even if our blood mixed then the blood cells themselves wouldn't have lasted this long. One's body regularly replenishes it-"
"Ordinarily, yes." Barty raises a hand, motioning for her to stop speaking and Hermione slowly closes her mouth, uncertain. "With magic things deviate from the ordinary. Our blood will remain mixed until we both die. It's just part of how the ritual works."
"So… it's blood magic?" Hermione asks, but her words sound hollow to her ears. Their blood had been mixed together? Didn't that… Didn't he… Shouldn't he be outraged by the idea? Surely there was some other non-blood mixing ritual he could have performed instead if he sought to control her actions? Or just a simple imperius curse after the ceremony instead of this?
Just what the bloody hell was she dealing with here? How could he keep calling himself a Death Eater, have her spy on them with even a sliver of her muddied blood flowing through him? How the hell was he remaining calm while talking to her about it?
Her finger twitches on the table before she forces herself to stay still. Perfectly still.
This was insanity.
"It's a minor form of it. The medallion is more than just a portkey-" No kidding. She had figured as much, she just hadn't thought through nearly all of the possibilities. But seriously? Fucking blood magic? "I had to use it for a blood enchantment earlier before putting it into your letter. It was never supposed to react to you. An oversight on my part, but I've been busy lately. If I'm thinking of the right song, the combination of my blood and it triggered that enchantment a little. I'll make sure it's not playing in your presence again and that should solve the issue. Just don't cut yourself on the medallion."
Hermione blinks. "And how do I avoid cutting myself? What happens if I do?"
Barty lets out a bark of laughter and Hermione jerks in place, nearly jumping out of her chair. "There's no way you'd accidentally cut yourself. The edges are duller than a wet stone. If you cut yourself with it it's got to be on purpose. There's no cause for alarm."
No cause for alarm? Was he- no, she knew the answer to that question.
A shiver runs through her and Hermione grasps for the warm mug of tea, sipping at it. "So, you're telling me I'm not just carrying a powerful portkey around Hogwarts? But a blood enchanted portkey?"
"The blood magic does help it to be strong enough to pull you through the wards. I tried to knock out a couple birds with it."
Wonderful.
Barty frowns, leaning forward, studying her once more. "It was originally just a forbris charm."
"Is that another form of blood magic?"
"No, it's essentially a luck charm." He pauses, finger tracing the handle of his own glass. "But if the enchantment is reacting to your blood the charm may as well."
Hermione lets out a snort. "I seriously doubt that. If it was granting me luck it would have helped me find a way out of this sham of a marriage by now. The damn book I needed wouldn't have been missing from the library for over two years-" She stops herself abruptly, hand curling against the table as she leans back in her chair, holding her breath as she waits for him to snap at her for saying such things.
Barty blinks slowly, head tilting slightly to the side as he gazes back at her. "That's true… Is there anything else you'd like to tell me, Hermione?"
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
She needs to be more careful. Not let her body tell him more than he needs to know, to get the damn emotion that shows in her eyes under control. The only problem was… how did she do that? Specifically without Barty's expertise on the matter. He had suggested looking into a mirror and practicing reining her emotions in once before, but… Shit. She can't just keep sitting here, staring at him, as her mind races along.
Hermione forces her mouth open. "I showed the medallion to McGonagall."
"And what did she say about it?"
"She didn't say anything."
Should she just tell him how McGonagall responded? Might as well, she was already telling him everything and if he thought she was hiding something… if he asked her about last night-
"She brought me into her office to try and have a record of where I go for the weekends - as a safety measure. When I told her about the portkey she asked to see it and while she… seemed disturbed by it she gave it back really quickly. Like it burned her or something."
"Hmph." Barty leans back, taking a drink from his cup. "Then the charm is serving its purpose."
"Purpose?" She can feel her shoulders lower before she can even think to stop herself, to hide the disbelief in her voice. Why was this happening to her?
Barty's lips twitch. "To keep anyone from realizing it has multiple enchantments. Besides the portkey, in McGonagall's' case."
"Why would the charm stop them from finding out about the others?"
He frowns, gaze finally dropping away from hers. "That's enough of your questions, Hermione. None of the details matter."
Hermione bites her lip, wanting to ask him more, but… She shouldn't vocalize them. Not around him. She knew the name of the charm: forbris. She could look it up in the library on her own.
"As you wish, my love."
Hermione lowers her head, picking up her knife to spread some jam on her toast, trying to stop her hand from trembling as she swears she can feel his gaze on her once more.
Don't think about it.
The last thing she wants is him questioning her again and so she tries to measure every movement, to stop herself from shivering even as it feels like a poisonous snake is coiling around her: just waiting for her to make a wrong move.