"I think," she murmured as she considered the box in her hands for the umpteenth time that evening, uncaring that it was a breach of manners to focus on the puzzle rather than the party around her. To be fair, the cake had been cut and handed out, and the dancing was well underway.
Why there was dancing at a coming-of-age party, she didn't know, except that Mrs. Weasley and Lily Potter had agreed that these dark times needed something joyous.
Hermione sat in one of the transfigured chairs in her pale pink dress and ran her fingers along the grooves. "I think," she said again to no one in particular, "these might be runes."
She had started suspecting soon after her first inspection, and now that she was more familiar with the way its parts moved and fit together, she was even more sure. If she turned this piece like so, it would be Gebo, the Futhark symbol meaning 'gift.' This one as such could be a part of Ansuz or Fehu depending on how it turned. If it made Ansuz, she could see the next rune being Laguz, 'lake'. No, that wasn't right. It had to be Fehu, then Othala. She twisted and found her way to Uruz, then that made the next one Raidho, and the rest were merely decorative.
Hermione pondered the meanings behind these four and their order. Fehu, Othala, Uruz, Raidho. Wealth, inheritance, endurance, journey were the meanings she saw most often ascribed, though Fehu could mean cattle and Uruz could mean aurochs, and this whole thing might be about oxen, though she doubted that.
Then there were the phonetic uses for language. Few people used them to spell these days, since Old Norse wasn't exactly spoken, but…
It would spell out 'four' theoretically.
She twisted and turned and found Gebo again. Othala made another appearance— gift and inheritance could be related enough, and 'go' was certainly a word. What about…
Her mind whirled through the possible configurations and their meaning as Harry took Ginny for a spin around the dance floor. It was good to see them getting along again; perhaps Harry was coming around to the younger girl, or maybe Ginny was willing to accept whatever the boy decided in the end. It wasn't as though she'd ever suffered for lack of suitors.
A cacophonous clash of alarm bells interrupted the music, tore through the din of soft conversations. A Patronus scurried to the center of the tent and spoke with a deep baritone of no one she knew personally, "They have taken the ministry. They know where we are. Run."
Hermione sat frozen for a beat, then jumped to her feet and swung around to find her boys. Draco had already grabbed hold of Ron and Harry ran to take her hand.
"You have a plan?" he asked as his warm hand enveloped hers. She nodded.
Draco took her other hand and the four of them made a small circle within the din the party had become. "On with it, then."
She squeezed their hands; Ron replaced one of his to her shoulder, and she apparated them just as the wards came down.
It was to the one muggle place other than Kings Cross she felt she knew well enough. She had passed it a few times over the years. More importantly, she had been there once before.
When Hermione was a toddler, she and her mother had been caught in the rain and made a stop in the corner diner to escape.
"Where is this?"
"Sh," she insisted. They crept in the alley beside the diner.
Two men passed, one of them a large blond who was vaguely familiar. They wore all black and nothing specifically called out that thwy didn't belong, but Hermione still suspected.
She held her breath as they passed. The smaller man— who was still large himself— paused. His head tilted. He began to turned.
Hermione apparated them again.
Again.
Again.
She apparated them until she stumbled over the root of a tree in the forest and realized she had no location in mind to go to next.
"Er, Hermione… where are we?" Harry eyed the forest around them.
"The Forest of Dean," she answered. "I think." Then she tossed him her bag. "There's a tent in there. Set it up while I place the wards." She began casting into the ground first, tracing out the cardinal directions with glances into the night to determine her placement.
As the boys started setting up camp, she made them virtually undetectable. She had no idea the capabilities of Tom's Death Eaters now that they had the ministry— she hadn't known he would take over the government at all, not really— but she would put nothing past them.
"Blimey, Hermione, how much did you pack?" The tent was up, but Ron was feeling around in the bag up to his shoulder.
She tutted and tugged it away from him. "It's all organized, Ronald. Please don't mess it up."
"What all do you have in there? How do you have it all?" he asked again.
"I used an Undetectable Extension Charm." Her cheeks heated as admit to using the illegal spell. However, this was an emergency. Surely, that justified its use.
"Right, so, I should reckon on finding a library in there." Ron nodded as though her silence confirmed it.
Hermione shoved him gently towards the tent entrance. "Inside. It's late."
The inside of the tent, like many magical things, was larger than it looked. There were two beds for sleeping and a small kitchen, not that they could risk its use; it would still put off smoke and eventually would rise above her wards.
Hermione had planned for that; they had food that didn't need cooking, though not an endless supply.
"We should take turns sleeping," she told the three boys.
"Right," agreed Harry. "Hermione, what exactly are we doing?"
"I—" she swallowed. "I don't know, actually. I just Tom will come for me eventually." Her eyes swam with tears as the events caught up with her. "Bloody Hell, what did I do? You all have families and—"
Draco squeezed her hand. "You're my family."
"We chose to come, Hermione," Harry said. "We talked about it and everything. Whatever you were planning, we wanted in."
"But I'm not planning anything. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
It was Ron who broke the beat of silence. "We look for the Hallows. It's the only clue we have."
"That makes no sense. Why would we—"
"It's what Dumbledore wanted," said Harry. "At least, as much as we can tell."
"Dumbledore…" Hermione pulled the little box from her bag and set it at the table. "There's something in here that will tell us what he wanted. I'm sure of it."
Ron nodded solemnly. "Solve it, then."
Hermione huffed a laugh. "Right, let me get on that, Ron. I'll just set it to 'open' and—"
She frowned. That was an idea, one so foolish and obvious that no one would suspect it of Dumbleddore. Hermione began turning the pieces of the puzzle again, making Othala, Perthro, Ehwaz, Nauthiz. Within the box, she felt a mechanical stir, and she set it on the table.
The box unfolded until it was a flat sheet of metal with two items on top. One was a book labled Secrets of the Darkest Art, and the other was a letter.
Dear Miss Granger,
I truly hope it does not come to this, but I have left in the care of my brother a few objects that, by now, I'm sure you've realized have some significance to current affairs.
In this box, which I am happy that you solved, you have found a vile book of dark magic and this letter. It is with a heavy heart that I tell you that Tom Riddle has used this book to do something to himself. He plans to take over the wizarding world and perhaps not even stop there.
I know you love— or loved— Tom, but he is not a good man. He is selfish, cruel, and power-hungry. I think there is no depth to which he will not stoop to make his plans come to fruition. Among them, I worry, is the goal to transcend death.
I fear he has found a way and accomplished it not once, not twice, but three times. I fear he is collecting items to do it more.
Thus I must ask that you track down these horrific objects that tie him to the mortal plane and destroy them.
Only then will Tom be mortal.
I know it is a cruel task I ask of you, but nothing short of death will stop him.
And you are not alone. I do not doubt Messiers Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter,, and perhaps Ronald Weasley, will assist you in this matter.
You will find some helpful items in my pensieve, should you return to Hogwarts.
Remember, there you will always find help when you are in need.
I wish you the best, and hope you will have a long and happy life more befitting such a wonderful young woman as yourself.
Sincerely,
Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore
Headmaster
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"He knew he was going to die," she muurmured as she finished the letter. "He knew it. And he assigned us a mission to carry out in his place." Hermione looked up and met Harry's gaze. His emerald eyes shone with tears as he reached for the letter and she handed it to him.
He read it in silence and held it out to Ron, who then handed it to Draco.
Hermione began to look through the book.
"So what is it we are meant to find and destroy?" the blond said when he had finished.
Hermione fingered the page at which she found herself inexplicably drawn. "I think they're called Horcruxes."