Chapter 42
As soon as the heavy oak door swung closed behind Blaise and latched shut, Hermione felt her exhaustion roll over her like a wave. She allowed her eyes to close and resigned herself to rest for a little bit. I can't think right now, anyways, she thought morosely. I'll be dead before sunrise besides. I'm so bloody stupid. A crystal-clear image of Harry Potter materialized in her mind's eye. Harry at the burrow, sitting next to her at Molly Weasleys warm kitchen table. Harry handing her a horribly wrapped gift at Christmas. Harry grabbing her hand in a dark forest somewhere after Ron abandoned them. Harry clumsily passing her a butterbeer, so foam spilled over onto her hand. Harry throwing the invisibility cloak over them. Harry coming to her after he broke things off with Ginny, looking for a shoulder to lean on. Harry smiling, laughing, crying. I bet he is at peace. I could be at peace, too. It wouldn't be so bad. Maybe Ron really is dead, like Pansy said, and he is at peace too, and we can all be together again.
Tears leaked down Hermione's face, drowning her once again in a deepening ocean of despair that haunted her every move. She fell into a fitful sleep, haunted by dreams of Ron and Harry, Grimmauld place, and the last time she had been there.
She woke up hours later, surprised that she was alone. She looked up at the window and saw that it was dark outside, a revelation that confused her. Voldemort has been here all day, what has he been doing this whole time?
Her eyes drifted over the walls, and she saw that Dumbledore was also back in his portrait, smiling down at her through his spectacles.
"Ah, Miss Granger you are awake," he said, and Hermione felt her heart lift a little at the familiar sound of his voice.
"Headmaster," she said in return, sounding a little astonished.
"I'm afraid Antonin Dolohov holds that title now," Dumbledore replied, sighing slightly.
"Err…Professor Dumbledore, I have some questions I'm hoping you can answer," she said.
"I would expect nothing less," He answered, good naturedly.
"Is there a password required to exit this office?" Hermione asked, feeling some rising anxiety.
"I believe occidere is the exit password, but I am sad to say I have never heard the entrance password." The portrait replied apologetically.
"Thank you, that is alright, I only intend to exit," She answered, thinking. "I'm not sure if you can answer this next one, but I'm really hoping. I have Harry's cloak, and I have the stone. I just need to get the Elder wand now, an I believe it is back in the Castle."
Dumbledore's portrait smiled down at Hermione, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Masterfully done, Miss Granger," he said, beaming at her.
"Thank you," She responded, allowing herself a modicum of pride. "But getting the wand will be tricky, and I don't know if I can. I…I don't know what to do with them once I have all three. I don't want to beat death for myself…I only want…" She trailed off.
"One can assume that someone as kind and honorable as you does not wish to use these things selfishly. I can surmise, then, that you intend to bring Harry Potter back to end Tom riddle's reign." Dumbledore spoke, putting Hermione's frazzled thoughts into articulation.
"Yes, sir," She responded excitedly. "But I won't know how, when I have all three hallows together. To bring back more than a shadow of Harry. I think he needs to be fully back, for this to work. I'm hoping the blood magic that Lily imparted on him would make this work."
"You have the right of it, my dear. Very good, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said kindly, smiling at her. "I know of only one book that holds the information you seek. It's located in a tiny house in Cokeworth, England. In fact, a muggle town. Located on a street called Spinner's End. The book is called Magicae ex Mortuis; peperit extra velum."
"Thank y-" Hermione began but as soon as she spoke, the door behind her swung open. In the time it took Hermione to glance away from the portrait, Dumbledore vanished, leaving an empty frame upon the wall once again.
"Hello again you filthy mudblood," Pansy purred, presenting herself in front of Hermione. She had a smug look on her face. Hermione craned her neck to see if anyone else had entered with her. "Cruciatus!" Searing white hot pain enveloped Hermione, so sharp she couldn't even open her mouth to scream.
"I heard that old fool Vikander came in here and performed Legilimency on you and failed," Pansy said, sneering. "I've told the Dark Lord before that she's useless. I told him it's no use- who is a better legilimens than Him?" As Pansy ranted, she walked in a circle around Hermione, the click of her boots and swish of her robes running in tandem. "He's coming in here for you soon. If anything, Vikander just wore out your energy reserves to make it easier for him. Ha! That old fool," Pansy said arrogantly. Suddenly she crouched very closely to Hermione, grabbing her hair, and putting her mouth next to Hermione's ear. "I have asked special permission to kill you when he is done," Pansy purred. "I'd like to collect the whole set, you see. I like doing away with mudblood and blood traitor lovers."
"Draco and I aren't lovers!" Hermione gasped, bewildered as to where the words came from. She hadn't even thought about them before speaking them, and she certainly hadn't been thinking about Draco Malfoy. At least…not in the fore front of her mind. But, oh, please don't let him be dead. She silently prayed. The realization dawned on her, that Pansy must be talking about Ron, and her heart sank. Please, oh please, don't let that be true.
Hermione's outburst caused Pansy to stop short. She seemed to blanche somehow.
"I was talking about the red-headed weasel, you cow," Pansy spit at her, anger flaring in her face. "Malfoy is a disgusting blood traitor, but even a blood traitor of pure blood heritage is too good for you," Pansy laughed, but the laugh sounded forced and fake. "And all of that besides, like anyone other than the equally horrid weasel would ever find that frizzy hair and bland personality attractive." Pansy was positively seething now, and without another pause hit Hermione with the Cruciatus curse again.
Hermione nearly fainted. When the curse ended and she opened her eyes again, for a split second she thought she could see Dumbledore in the frame of the portrait of the stately looking witch's portrait that was above his.
"Excuse me, Miss," A narrow voice said, startling both Pansy and Hermione. "Up here."
Pansy turned toward the portrait, a bewildered expression spreading across her tense face. "What?" She hissed at the portrait.
"I beg an answer, Miss, how do you get into the Slytherin common room?" The portrait witch asked pansy, peering down at the her face.
"I…err…you go to the dungeons, a bare stretch of stone wall. You give a password?" Pansy said, her confusion causing her to sound unsure.
"Then you are one of mine. Dear child I am Antonia Creaseworthy," The portrait paused, no doubt waiting for Pansy to give her recognition. The recognition didn't come, and Hermione had to fight herself to not blurt out who it was.
"I was the last Slytherin Head mistress this castle has ever seen," The portrait witch said, and Pansy blushed with embarrassment.
"Yes, my apologies, Miss ceaseworth-" Pansy stammered.
"Creaseworthy, dear, there is an ever present 'r' after that 'c'," The portrait snapped, looking annoyed. Hermione was using all her strength to keep from laughing. "Come, dear, and heed what I will say. This one was conspiring with Albus's portrait." Fear seized Hermione's throat at the sound of the portrait witch's words. Hermione's eyes shot to Dumbledore's portrait, and he was there. He winked at Hermione through his spectacles.
The next things that took place happened very quickly. Hermione registered that Dumbledore had somehow created a distraction for Hermione, because now Pansy was turned fully towards the portrait, and her focus was no longer on Hermione.
"Come closer dear, I cannot hear you at all," The portrait nearly shouted at Pansy, which made Pansy lurch forward, further away from Hermione. Just then, the portrait above Creaseworthy's began to shout, blocking out any noise Hermione might make.
Hermione did not even hesitate on her next actions, calling on all her courage to go forward. She transfigured into her owl form, and the ropes holding her fell away. She was at the door within a second, with Pansy still focused on whatever the portrait witch was saying. She silently transfigured back into herself long enough to whisper "Occidere" to the door. She silently thanked merlin that transfiguring was silent, but now she had to act even quicker, knowing the door would creak as it opened. She transfigured into an owl again and flew straight up to the high vaults in the ceiling above just as Pansy came careening out of the door, arms flailing wildly as she searched for Hermione. How did Dumbledore know I was able to get out of the ropes? Hermione wondered, as she listened to Pansy's screams of rage echo down the stone hallway.
She waited till she couldn't hear Pansy anymore and the soared out of an open window, headed for the Hogwarts Owlery.