"This is it?" Tom Riddle said, holding the Philosopher's Stone. He looked over at Hermione before handing it to Blaise. "It's not much, is it?"
"What's it supposed to look like?" Hermione said, folding her arms. "By definition, it's supposed to be a literal rock."
"A rock made out of the primordial essence of the universe," Blaise mused. He held it for a long moment, turning it over in his hand. "I suppose if it's going to be literal chaos contained, the fact it's managed any kind of aesthetically-pleasing appearance is a miracle."
Hermione laughed. "Come on. Let's get started."
Blaise and Hermione had set up shop to make the Elixir of Life in the Chamber of Secrets. It was the safest place they knew of, and the least likely place to be raided by a professor or Filch while roaming the halls. Tom Riddle was helping, though his limited knowledge of alchemy restricted him to tasks such as setting up the cauldron and cleaning an area for them to work.
"I can't believe they discovered this based on messing around with the myth of Adam and Eve," Blaise said, shaking his head as he pulled out different types of apples from his bag. "The sheer coincidence."
"They had to start somewhere," Hermione said, going over to the cauldron of solid gold. She withdrew her wand. "Aguamenti." As the cauldron filled with water, she looked back at Blaise. "How do you know that creation story, anyway? It's a muggle tale."
"I grew up partially in Italy," Blaise reminded her. "The Catholics are everywhere in Italy. The architecture. The culture. The art. You can't grow up not knowing about it, magical or not."
"Is there a wizard equivalent?" Hermione wondered. "Is there a magical creation myth?"
Blaise paused to consider.
"You know," he said slowly. "I really don't think there is."
"There isn't," Tom agreed darkly. "Believe me, I've looked."
Blaise and Hermione had retrieved a multitude of different types of apples from the House Elves: red, yellow, green, pink, red streaked with yellow, pink streaked with yellow, one that looked almost orange… Hermione hadn't the slightest idea of the chemical compositions of different apples, and she'd decided it would be much easier to 'guess and test' than become a graduate chemistry student in a few weeks.
"You're literally just dropping an apple into the cauldron of water, and then dropping the stone in?" Tom asked. He seemed deeply amused. "How long does it take?"
"I have absolutely no idea," Hermione said. "I couldn't ask for super specific details without it being suspicious, could I? Though I think I have to 'activate' the stone with my magic before I throw it in."
"So…" Blaise looked over the apples. "Which one first?"
Hermione bit her lip. "Um…"
In truth, part of Hermione desperately wanted to experiment. Should she just throw in an apple, like Perenelle had done? Or should she try her own interpretation of myth, using a pomegranate instead? She'd considered trying to get a quince, one of the 'golden apples' Hercules had been charged with stealing from the Garden of Hesperides, to see if the myths held enough similar elements at the core to produce the same results. But she was under a bit of a time crunch from the blackmail…
"Let's try the Fuji apple," she decided. "It has some variation in color on the skin, so maybe that's caused by different minerals and elements?" She shrugged. "We have to start somewhere."
"Indeed we do." Blaise grinned. He picked up the apple, rolling it in his hands for a moment before tossing it into the cauldron, where it hit the water with a splash and a plop. "Your turn."
Hermione took the Philosopher's Stone in her hand, turning it over as she looked at it. How exactly was she supposed to communicate her will with this thing?
"This might be intense," Tom warned. "If it really contains the primal material of the universe—"
"Prima materia," Hermione corrected.
"—whatever, then you probably want to sit down before you talk to the ancient spirits of chaos."
Amused, Hermione settled herself on the ground, taking deep breaths and centering her magic around her. Once she was aware of her magic and core, she closed her eyes and reached out to the stone in her hands.
There was a sensation of falling, and then of floating aimlessly, her mind blank. Behind her eyes, it was as if she were floating in space, distant stars twinkling at her as she drifted in nothingness. It was simultaneously incredibly overwhelming and humbling, but there was also an odd sense of inner peace.
⁌ ? ⁍
An odd feeling entered Hermione, one of questioning. Hesitantly, Hermione envisioned the Elixir of Life and her goals, trying to push that idea out into the ether with her magic. There was a pause, and then a response.
⁌ Ⓐ⅌⅏✭₰¤ℭ₦৻৳ ? ⁍
Hermione blinked. Carefully, she envisioned the apple being put into the water in the cauldron of gold, then being transmuted into the Elixir of Life, the water glittering with magic.
⁌ ↂↈ◉⦾? ⁍
Hermione nodded and sent out a wordless affirmative.
⁌ ✓ ⁍
She wasn't quite sure what had happened, but she was somehow assured that the stone understood her desire. She carefully began pulling her magic back out of the stone, sending a wordless thanks out into the universe of the stone, and getting an amused, fond response back.
⁌ ❖ ⁍
Hermione opened her eyes. The stone was glowing red in her hand, which was rather reassuring, and she suddenly felt incredibly magically drained. She leaned forward, reaching to the cauldron, and dropped the stone inside, where it quickly sank to the bottom, still pulsing with red light.
"It's still glowing," Tom said, leaning over to look. "It landed next to the apple."
"I take it that it worked?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I think so," Hermione said, biting her lip. "The stone didn't really communicate in English. Or in words, really. I had to figure out how to send out raw ideas and wants into the ether."
Blaise laughed.
"Nothing's ever simple with you, is it, Hermione?" he teased. "Learning primordial communication techniques to talk to a rock."
Hermione flushed. "At least I'm being polite! Even if it's only to a rock!"
Tom started snickering, and that made Blaise laugh even harder, and after a moment Hermione joined in, realizing the absurdity of what she had just said. It took a moment for her giggle fits to die down.
"Okay, I think we'll have an idea in a week if it's working or not," Hermione said. "The water glitters, I think, when it's become the Elixir."
"Are you going to test this somehow?" Tom asked. "Try and become immortal and see if you die?"
"That's a bit extreme," Blaise said, gathering up the other apples and hitting them with statis spells. "We could cut off Malfoy's pinky finger and see if it grows back?"
"It doesn't regrow limbs!" Hermione said, laughing. "And we'll figure out how to test it somehow. I haven't figured that bit out yet."
"Well, when we do, be sure to make Malfoy the test subject," Blaise said, smirking. "Even if we have to drag him kicking and screaming."
"Why?"
Blaise gave her a look. "He's the only other one who knows you have the Stone, right? If we've done something wrong, I don't want something terrible happening to you or me."
"Oh." Hermione paused. "I don't think that'd be very fair. But we'll see what happens."
"I volunteer," Tom said immediately. "I will selflessly volunteer to drink the test Elixir of Life, and we will be able to deduce if it is correct by its effects on me."
"Absolutely not," Hermione said immediately. "I'd sooner drink it myself."
"Please don't do that," Blaise pleaded. "The last thing we need is you drinking liquid gold and poisoning yourself. Promise me you won't do something stupid like try and drink it without me being here."
"I promise," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "I'd like to think I wouldn't be that stupid, but if it makes you feel better, I'll wait for your supervision before doing potentially 'stupid' things."
Blaise grinned. "Good enough."
With Peter Pettigrew's approaching trial, added homework and review for upcoming exams, and being blackmailed, Hermione began to feel like her mind was too full of things to function. She could do it all, she told herself firmly, but she found herself often writing lists out to herself to help sort out her thoughts when they were swimming around too fast in her brain.
- Transfiguration essay
- Apple check w/Blaise
- Potions assignment
- Wizengamot: restoration of Black's seat
- Wizengamot: pre-trial hearing
- History myth assignment
- Practice w/Tom
- Hedgewitch progress?
- Goblins?
Keeping detailed calendars and a to-do list helped keep Hermione sane and on track, as did her Time-Turner. She'd never have been able to manage everything without it, she knew. Or at least, she wouldn't have been able to manage it and keep her position at the top of the class, which was of paramount importance.
She did have her priorities, after all.
Hermione had started getting letters in the mail, too – inquiries from people who wanted to hire her coven for different things. She handed them off to Susan, who had taken up the position of the Public Relations front of the coven with relish. It hadn't really been discussed, but Susan had fallen into it naturally – she knew the traditional wizarding ways, she knew how different families were connected to each other, and she was good at phrasing things in ways that didn't alarm or challenge others.
Draco had started helping her as well. When Hermione had delegated the hedgewitch task to him, she'd expected sulking and resistance, but instead, he was taking it incredibly seriously.
"We're planning to ward my tenancy – that is, the Malfoys' – and the Rosier tenancy," he told her. "I'm a bit worried about the Rosier one – they're right by a forest that's rumored to be a center for werewolf attacks, and their tenancy has had the second most bites in the past twenty years. But that's why they should be next – they need the protection the most." Draco scowled. "The irony of having to do a werewolf protection ritual on the one night of the month where you're in the most danger from werewolves is not lost on me, Hermione."
"Maybe you can delay doing the Rosier one, then," Hermione suggested, biting her lip. "After the Pettigrew trial, I'm going to introduce anti-werewolf legislation that might help alleviate some of that threat."
"Anti-werewolf legislation?" Draco's eyebrow rose. "That might make things worse. The targeted werewolves will want to act out."
"It'll help them," Hermione argued. "It's as much for them as it is to protect the populace."
Draco snorted. "They probably won't see it that way. No one likes the government infringing on their business."
Draco had approached her with a specific concern, though: the next full moon was the 24th, on a Tuesday, he told her. He was concerned he'd have to skip Astronomy in order to be out all night. And with exams approaching, he was worried about what he might miss if he missed a class, but oh, the tenancy warding was so important that he couldn't just abandon the hedgewitches because he had class…
Hermione sighed and promised to 'help him' not need to skip, which made Draco grin and thank her, bowing with a flourish, and Hermione rolled her eyes. He could have just asked if she'd use her Time-Turner for him; it wasn't as if she hadn't done it before.
Blaise was mildly irritated at Draco taking up such a key role in Hermione's greater plans, but he reluctantly conceded it was necessary.
"He's the only one of us that could, really. Pureblooded ponce that he is," Blaise sighed. "None of us are Sacred 28 scions who can get off campus to help without it being against the rules."
"Being around the hedgewitches might help humble him," Hermione suggested. She shrugged. "It might be good for him to realize the plight of his tenants."
Blaise snorted. "Yeah, right."
As all this was going on, Tracy seemed to be planning out the summer, which seemed impossibly far out to Hermione. Hermione had plans as far as Midsummer and the last day of term, but that was it. Tracey didn't seem to believe her when she admitted she hadn't thought ahead that far.
"You'll have the Chocolate Frog photo session at some point, and of course there's the Quidditch World Cup," Tracey said, writing into a fancy planner she'd acquired somewhere. "What else are your plans?"
"I—um—" Hermione faltered.
Tracey rolled her eyes. "When you figure it out, tell me, alright? If I'm going to be the official scribe of The Shadows, I need to know these things."
Hermione had no idea when Tracey had decided she was the official scribe of The Shadows, or that that was even a thing they had decided they needed.
As the trial of Peter Pettigrew approached, Hermione found she was excited to see it unfold. She embraced the legal drama of it as a way of escaping everything else she had going on, and she was morbidly curious about how it would all unfold in court.
Harry was also obsessed with the upcoming trial.
"Sirius has been writing to me," he shared with the coven, as they lounged around the grounds one day after classes. "He's going to be the first witness for the Wand, I think. The Wand's also going to call Dumbledore to the stand, and probably Ron as well."
"Are they really?" Susan asked. "I figured they'd call Percy, instead. He had Scabbers the longest."
"Ron had him up until we caught him," Harry said, shrugging. "I'm hoping they'll call me to talk about the coven ritual and chain of custody, but Sirius doesn't think it'll be necessary – he says that the Truth Circle Peter will have to sit in will do most of the work."
"Are you jealous?" Luna asked directly, blinking, and Harry flushed.
"Maybe a little," he said defensively. "It's only natural. How come Ron gets to see the trial and I don't? I want to see the trial of the man who betrayed my parents." He exhaled sharply. "I want to know why. Why did he do it? He was their friend."
Hermione bit her lip.
"Do you still have your invisibility cloak?" she asked quietly, glancing around.
Harry's eyes lit up. "Of course."
Hermione glanced at Luna, who smiled ambiguously, and Blaise, who was rolling his eyes but nodding.
"Make sure you have it ready. Meet me at the door to Dumbledore's office on Tuesday at 10am," Hermione told him. She sighed. "Whatever you do, don't get caught, alright? This is probably highly against the rules"
"I'll be careful, Hermione." Harry's grin was infectious. "I'll do whatever you say so long as you let me come."
The morning of Peter Pettigrew's trial arrived, and Hermione awoke with adrenaline thrumming through her veins. It wasn't as if he had a hope in hell of getting off, she thought as she got dressed, but what all would they learn? If Peter was put in the Truth Circle…
They might learn more about why Voldemort had chosen to target James and Lily Potter on that fateful day.
Transfiguration was a blur, but Lockhart had decided to do a topical lesson on the history of trials within the Wizengamot and the realm – a legal lesson Hermione hadn't realized she desperately needed.
"Not all trials are so high-profile!" Lockhart declared with great panache, writing Local Trials on the chalkboard and underlining it. He turned to the class. "Who can tell me who oversees trials at a local level?"
Hermione raised her hand, along with a few others.
"The regional magistrates," Susan Bones said, when called upon. "There are thirteen of them."
"Precisely so! Take five points for Hufflepuff," Lockhart said, writing down regional magistrates. "These magistrates are elected by those in their region. Turnout for these local elections tends to vary, but it's usually on the low side, which is disappointing. These representatives may someday hold your fate in their hand! You should always vote when you can."
"Each magistrate has a local court and jurisdiction on small claims in civil matters and local criminal matters," Lockhart went on. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement isn't going to call the Wizengamot together for a trial on you selling unlicensed crups! But they'll take you to the local magistrate, where you'll have a small trial."
"That's if you get caught," Millie muttered.
Hermione shot her a look, and Millie smirked.
"Don't worry, I'll get all the licenses I need," she said, her voice low. "But I was just saying…"
Hermione rolled her eyes and resumed paying attention.
"—when crimes or parties cross regions," Lockhart went on. "In these instances, the magistrates of both regions are summoned, as well as all thirteen regional representatives to serve as the court. One of the Ministry courtrooms at the Ministry of Magic is used."
"Now! The Wizengamot serves as the High Court of the land!" Lockhart said, writing Wizengamot on the board. "Who can tell me who composes the Wizengamot?"
Hermione knew this one.
"There are 28 seats for the Peers of the Realm," she recited, "also known as the 'Sacred 28'. There are 13 seats for the regional representatives. There's 8 seats for the heads of the different departments of the Ministry of Magic, and 1 seat for the representative of the British Youth."
"Excellent! Take five points for Slytherin!" Lockhart said.
Lockhart sketched out the entire Wizengamot, writing out all of the members as best he could. Slytherin House was collectively able to supply the Sacred 28 with ease, while Susan Bones knew the different regions the magistrates were from, though not the names of the representatives. Lockhart didn't seem to think that was important, though.
"They change all the time!" he said, waving his hand. "Knowing the areas is close enough. Who can name all the Ministry Departments and their Heads?"
A few people knew the Ministry Departments, but only Hermione knew the heads.
"There's the Minister's Office; that's headed by Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic," she said, counting on her fingers. "Department of Magical Law Enforcement is next – that's Amelia Bones. Next is Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, run by Era Hornbeam."
"You're going down the floors of the Ministry, aren't you?" Lockhart said, eyes twinkling as he wrote on the board.
"—control of Magical Creatures, with Royce Fiddlewood; Department of International Magical Cooperation is Barty Crouch Senior. Magical Transportation is Muse Boothe, and Magical Games and Sports is Ludo Bagman," Hermione said, ticking them off on her fingers. "Last is Department of Mysteries, and no one knows who that is."
"Excellent! Take fifteen points for Slytherin!" Lockhart said, beaming. "Why do we not know the representative for the Department of Mysteries?"
"It's an Unspeakable," Justin Finch-Fletchney knew, growing excited. "They wear hoods that hide their identity, and no one knows who they are or what magic they know. They're like magical spies."
Lockhart paused, blue eyes growing wide.
"…are they really?" he asked. "That changes everything. I thought they were more like the government's secret research team than spies."
"They are, sir," Draco drawled. "The Aurors and Department of Magical Law enforcement have their own magic they use for spying and infiltration missions. The Department of Mysteries researches mysteries."
"How do you know?" Justin shot back. "Nobody knows what the Unspeakables do!"
"I know more than you," Draco snarked. "My cousin works in the Department of Mysteries."
"If your cousin worked there, they'd be an Unspeakable, and Unspeakables aren't allowed to tell anyone that they're an Unspeakable!" Justin argued.
"Well, they broke the rules, then, didn't they—?"
"Getting back on topic," Lockhart said, cutting in hurriedly. "The vote to free Sirius Black only had 49 votes recorded. Who knows why the last was missing?"
"The Gaunt seat is empty, sir," Daphne Greengrass said, raising her hand. Lockhart looked relieved as Draco and Justin fell silent, glaring at each other from across the class. "It hasn't disappeared, so there's still a member of the Gaunt family out there somewhere," Daphne continued, "but they still haven't come forward to claim their seat."
Lockhart finished the lesson with a dramatic retelling of Sirius Black's trial and how everyone had voted. Their assignment was to write a dramatic account of how they imagined Peter Pettigrew's trial would go and hand it in.
"Remember: accurate characterization isn't important, so long as it's consistent," Lockhart told them, beaming. "Make sure you pick a point of view and stick with it! Best one will get an Advanced Reader Copy of my next book, coming out soon!"
Hermione wondered if she could successfully complete the assignment if she just wrote down everything she would see later that day, or if Lockhart was more intent on getting dramatized, fictional retellings. She caught up with Blaise in the hallway, but he held a finger to his lips when she reached him. He nodded ahead, where Theo and Draco were talking, and Hermione fell quiet, listening in.
"You don't have a cousin in the Department of Mysteries," Theo was arguing. "I know your family tree."
"Do so," Draco shot back. "Lysander's sister—"
"Lysander is not your bloody cousin, you oaf!"
"He's the kid of my aunt's sister," Draco argued. "That makes him—"
"He is the child of your aunt's sister-in-law," Theo hissed. "You have no blood relation to him whatsoever, and you should be glad of it—"
"His mum is practically my aunt!" Draco protested. "She's over all the time since—well, the rest of her family isn't around, really—and my Mum treats her as a sister. I grew up looking up to Lysander—"
"The fact your mother has found a surrogate sister to replace the one she disowned doesn't make her an actual relative," Theo said coolly. "These words have meaning, Draco. You can't just call everyone your cousin or part of your family."
"You're just jealous because you don't have any family," Draco said cruelly. "All yours got killed, captured, or—"
There was a flash of light and BANG! as Draco was blasted across the hall, Theo fuming, wand out and pointing at him still.
"Don't talk to me about my family," he hissed, eyes sharp. "Just because yours were all disloyal and escaped Azkaban doesn't make them better. It makes them traitors."
Draco's eyes were wide, and Theo glared at him for a long moment before turning heel and storming off. Hermione stared after him silently with Blaise, and Draco slowly got to his feet, glancing up at Blaise and Hermione.
"Eavesdropping, were you?" he snarked, brushing his robes off. He looked after the Theo. "Don't know what his problem is—"
"You were being nasty and you know it," Blaise cut him off, rolling his eyes. "Did you think he'd take kindly to you reminding him of where all his family is?"
"Does he even have family?" Hermione wondered. "I know his mum is dead, and his father's alive and on the Wizengamot, but otherwise—"
"They're in Azkaban." Draco shrugged airily. "All the rest of the Notts – his uncles, aunts, cousins. His mother's side all got killed, for the most part – I think she was the last Parshukova left in Russia."
"So you thought reminding him of that would be a good tactic?" Blaise said, exasperated. "You're not honestly this stupid, Malfoy."
"Family is who you treat as family!" Draco protested, reddening. He glanced at Hermione. "My mum invites the extended family over for family events, so I treat them as family. That includes Aunt Phaedra and her kids."
"But she's not really your aunt," Blaise said, folding his arms.
"If my mother wants to invite the Lestranges over because the rest of her family is—" Draco broke off, rubbing his hand over his face. "Look. Does it matter is it's really my cousin or not? I still know someone in the Department of Mysteries. That was the point."
"Do you know if they take summer interns?" Hermione asked. She sighed wistfully. "I would love to research magic all summer long."
"A summer… intern?" Draco repeated blankly.
"Yes. I went to inquire myself recently, but I got distracted by the Hall of Prophecy," Hermione said. "Oh, wait. On that note…"
She dove her hand into her bag, searching for the parchment she'd written the prophecies on.
"Remind me to talk to Luna," Hermione told Blaise, coming up frustrated. "There were prophecies she gave or heard that involved me, and I wanted to ask her about them. I wrote them down, but I think I left it in my dorm."
Blaise paused.
"Prophecies?" he said, emphasizing the last syllable. "As in, more than one?"
"Err, yes," Hermione said. "There were a few."
Draco's eyes went wide, and Blaise groaned. Hermione winced.
"I'm sure it's not a big deal," she said hastily. "I just—well, best to figure them out, right? Anyway, we need to get to lunch. I'll need the energy to get through the Wizengamot."
