"O loveliness, thou scourge of souls — devote. Thine eyes of fire — luminous-like feasts. To burn these rags — rejected by the beasts!"

Causerie. Les Fleurs du mal. Charles Baudelaire.

I

Hermione Granger felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as she thought about how she ended up in this moment. The Department of Mysteries was an enigmatic place that had been around for longer than the Ministry of Magic. It was full of secrets that Hermione had been studying for the past two years, with the help of her mentor, Regina Rowle. Today was her first time going into the Death Chamber.

As Hermione walked down the stone steps, she felt amazed and scared at the same time. She couldn't take her eyes off the old stone archway in the pit below. It had a torn black curtain hanging from it, moving gently as if there was a breeze. Regina, who she trusted and looked up to, came over to her. "Hermione, you've done very well in your studies. The Death Chamber will be your main focus. It has the answers to the mysteries of the Veil and its old magic."

The Veil wasn't just an ordinary curtain. It seemed to be alive. It made sounds and seemed to call the young witch closer. It had a dark and interesting feeling, like it wanted to pull her in. Hermione couldn't help but ask, "Is the Veil like a doorway between the world of the living and the world of the dead?"

Regina nodded seriously, knowing how important this was. "Yes. Your job will be to help us understand the magic that connects the Veil and figure out why it's there. It seems to be a barrier between the living and the dead, stopping anyone from going between them."

Hermione felt a shiver down her back as she listened to Regina. The Death Chamber was powerful, but also dangerous. People in the wizarding world were scared of it because they heard stories of whispers and spells in the chamber, tempting anyone who stayed too long near the Veil.

"Be careful, Hermione," Regina warned, looking worried. "The Death Chamber isn't safe. The voices of the dead get louder when living beings try to talk to them. Staring at the Veil for too long might make you want to step through it."

Hermione took a deep breath, feeling determined. "I understand, Unspeakable Rowle. I'll be alert and cautious in the Death Chamber."

Regina gave her a supportive smile and put a hand on her shoulder. "I trust you, Hermione. Your smarts and bravery will help us find the answers we're looking for."

As the weeks went by, Hermione became more fascinated by the secrets of the Veil. She was excited to continue her research. Then, one morning, she got an urgent message from Augustus Rookwood, the director of the Department of Mysteries.

She felt nervous as she entered Rookwood's fancy office. The room was filled with expensive decorations and furniture. Rookwood himself was a powerful figure behind his big desk, his gaze steady and serious.

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She knew Rookwood wasn't easy to deal with, especially since his family didn't like muggles and muggleborns. But she refused to let his prejudice shake her confidence.

Rookwood leaned back in his chair, looking closely at her. "Granger, do you understand how serious this situation is?"

She nodded firmly. "Yes, Director Rookwood. I know a Muggle has been killed, and there are signs of dark magic involved."

Rookwood smirked scornfully. "That's right. The incident shows clear signs of dark magic, and we can't ignore it. We need someone to investigate and eliminate this threat, and that someone is you, Granger."

Panic rushed through Hermione as she looked for a way to convince Rookwood otherwise. "Sir, with respect, my expertise is more in Charms and Curses. Shouldn't the Department of Magical Law Enforcement handle this?"

Rookwood's eyes flashed with anger, and he spoke with disdain. "Don't question my authority, Granger. I'm the one who makes the decisions in this department. You'll do as I say, or you can say goodbye to your internship."

Determined, Hermione kept her composure and clenched her jaw. She knew she had to prove herself to keep her internship. With a resolute nod, she replied, "Alright, Director Rookwood. I'll take on this assignment and do my best to solve it."

Hermione noticed a glimmer of grudging respect in Rookwood's eyes. "Make sure you do, Granger. The reputation of the Department of Mysteries is on the line."

With that, the witch left Rookwood's office, feeling determined and frustrated. She knew that this assignment would push her to her limits and test her skills.

The journey to Little Hangleton was long and tiring. Hermione took a train from London to Little Whinging, and then a carriage for two hours. When the carriage finally stopped, she took a deep breath of the fresh country air and admired the cozy cottages and narrow streets of the village, which seemed frozen in time.

A pub called "The Hanged Man" caught Hermione's attention. It looked welcoming, and she thought it would be a good place to start her investigation. As she opened the old wooden door, the smell of ale and the sound of lively conversations greeted her.

At the bar, Hermione ordered some fish and chips. She struck up a conversation with Agatha Sanders, the woman who ran the pub. "Agatha," she said, "I'm investigating the death of Frank Bryce. Do you know anything about it?"

Agatha looked around cautiously before leaning closer and whispering, "I've heard some things, dear. They say they found a body in the Riddle Manor. It's been empty since the entire family died."

Curiosity fueled Hermione's inquiry as she asked if anyone had seen or heard anything strange surrounding Frank's death. Agatha pondered for a moment, cleaning a glass with a cloth. "People talk, you know. They say they heard peculiar noises from the Manor, like screams and footsteps. But no one can prove it. And there are stories of dark figures lurking around the graveyard at night. But who knows if it's true or just their imagination?"

Hermione absorbed the information, nodding thoughtfully. It was evident that this case was more complicated than it initially appeared. Suddenly, the door swung open, and Harry Potter walked in, his cloak billowing behind him.

"Hey, 'Mione, it's been too long! We should hang out more," Harry said, sounding a bit wistful.

Hermione sighed, feeling a mix of nostalgia and frustration. "I know, Harry. It's just... life has become complicated," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.

Harry looked puzzled. "Complicated? In what way?"

Hermione paused, gathering her thoughts. She decided to confide in him about her messy personal life. "You remember how close we were, right? You, Ron, and me. We were inseparable."

Harry nodded, reminiscing about their past adventures. "Of course, I remember. We were like a family."

Pain flickered in Hermione's eyes as she continued. "Yes, we were. But things changed, Harry. After Ron and I got engaged, everything fell apart. I caught him in our apartment with Lavender Brown in our bed. It was a betrayal I couldn't forgive."

The witch was taken aback by Harry's shocked gasp. "Oh my, 'Mione, I had no idea. That's... terrible."

Feeling a mix of pain and determination, Hermione nodded. "It really was. Ron was always so jealous and controlling, and this was the final straw. His family, especially Molly, tried to blame me, saying I didn't give him enough attention because of my studies. But I couldn't stay in a toxic relationship like that."

With sympathy and compassion, Harry looked at her. "I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve any of that. You deserve to be happy."

A faint smile appeared on Hermione's face as she met Harry's gaze. "Thank you, Harry. Your words mean a lot. After learning Alchemy from Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel, I went to Salem for further studies. Since then, my internship with the Department of Mysteries has taken up most of my time, making it hard to catch up."

Harry gently touched her hand. "I understand, 'Mione. Sometimes life takes us on different paths. But remember, I'm here for you. I've missed you."

Leaving the pub behind, Harry began sharing the grim details of Frank Bryce's death. As they walked through the dark streets, his voice revealed concern.

"Frank Bryce fought in the First World War," Harry said in a quiet tone. "After returning to Little Hangleton, he worked as the gardener for the ill-fated Riddle family."

Hermione's curiosity grew with each word. She had heard rumors about the mysterious deaths of the Riddles. "But wasn't Frank Bryce considered a suspect in their murders?" she asked softly.

Harry nodded, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "Yes, he was a suspect. The authorities questioned him, but he was never charged. He lived in a small cottage near the Little Hangleton graveyard."

As they turned a corner, the moonlight cast an eerie glow on the cobblestones. The wizard continued, his tone filled with horror and fascination. "A week ago, Bryce was found dead in the Riddle manor. The Muggle authorities couldn't determine the cause of his death, just like with the Riddles. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is investigating, suspecting it might be another attack by Grindelwald's followers."

Hermione shuddered, feeling the cold night air chill her to the bone. "Grindelwald's followers? But wasn't he imprisoned in Nurmengard?"

The witch listened attentively as Harry nodded. "Yes, he's in prison, but many of his followers are still out there, hiding in different parts of Europe. The worry is that they continue to carry out his dark acts."

As they approached the crime scene, Harry's voice grew serious. "Frank's body was horrifying. He looked like a shriveled mummy, and his face was contorted in terror. Dark magic had drained the life out of him."

Trying to make sense of it all, Hermione asked, "Did they find any clues?"

Harry whispered, "They discovered a broken ring and a bloody book near him. Nothing else."

Intrigued and concerned, she said, "I need to see it for myself. Take me there."

He smiled gratefully. "I knew you'd say that. Come on, 'Mione. The Riddle Manor awaits."

Leaving the village, Riddle Manor stood on a hill, with boarded-up windows and a deteriorating roof. Ivy covered its crumbling walls, showing the passage of time.

Hermione shivered at the sight of the manor. "The Riddle House... it's so eerie, Harry."

Nodding solemnly, he replied, "It used to belong to the despised Riddle family, who were Muggles. Now, it's just a damp, crumbling ruin."

Hermione's thoughts drifted to the dark past of the house. "Tom... the heir of the Riddle fortune, was enchanted by Merope Gaunt, who had his child. But when the spell wore off, he abandoned her and their child."

Harry sighed sadly. "Merope died while giving birth, and no one knows what happened to the baby. The Gaunts, the last descendants of Salazar Slytherin, lived near Little Hangleton. They were a violent, impoverished family."

A pang of sympathy for those affected by the troubles of the Riddle Manor struck Hermione. "And Morfin Gaunt, Merope's brother, cursed Tom Riddle for his sister's love. That led to his imprisonment in Azkaban."

The dreadful history and the tragedy within the manor weighed heavily on Hermione. "This place is so disturbing, Harry."

He agreed, his eyes scanning the mansion. "I agree. Whatever happened here, it still haunts this place."

The manor loomed in front of them, looking eerie in the moonlight. Its old walls and broken windows showed that it had been neglected for a long time. The shadows around it seemed to whisper about terrible things that were inside. Hermione felt a chill run down her spine as they got closer to the scary building. She looked at Harry, who seemed determined and not afraid.

"This is the place," she said quietly, trying not to disturb the silence.

Harry nodded, looking into the dark interior. "Yes, the Riddle House. It used to be a beautiful mansion, but now it's a sad reminder of a violent history."

They walked through the narrow hallway, their footsteps echoing in the empty house. The air was thick with dust and cobwebs, and it smelled like something was decaying. When they entered the drawing room, the witch was shocked by what she saw. Frank Bryce's dead body was near the fireplace, a stark contrast to the once elegant room. His eyes were wide open, staring into nothingness. He had been a victim of a horrible crime that had happened there.

Hermione quickly used some spells to check for any traces of magic. "There's something really wrong here," she said, pointing at a torn book and a strange ring on a table. "They're giving off a dark and powerful energy."

She sighed and took out her ward box, carefully putting the book and ring inside. "Poor Frank Bryce," she said sadly. "There's nothing we can do for him now." She looked at Harry and added, "We need to secure this place as soon as possible, so no one else gets hurt."