Theo came around before the weekend, catching her in the library in the evening hours, writing swiftly her essay for Herbology. He looked apologetic and sheepish when he approached her, sliding into a chair next to her.
"I have something for you," he said, placing his hand balled in a fist on the table. His palm opened, revealing a silver necklace with a tiny pendant hanging on its chain.
Her eyes darted to him in confusion. "What's that?"
"It was my mother's," he explained, picking it up from his hand and displaying it for her. "I—"
He swallowed, looking at her. "I would like you to have it, so you can remember that whatever hurtful things I say to you, I don't mean them."
Hermione was stunned at the admission. She hoped for an apology, or at least to have Theo act the way he normally would around her, but his gift took her completely by surprise. Her fingers inched closer, closing over the delicate jewelry. She turned the pendant in her palm, mesmerized by how the gemstones shimmered with a purplish-red hue under the soft light. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that the pendant was delicately crafted in the shape of the letter T with the captivating gemstones elegantly set within its design.
She realized just how deeply personal the necklace was, a cherished possession that had once belonged to his mother. Overwhelmed by the weight of its sentimental value, she gently placed it back into his hand, understanding the significance it held for Theo. "I can't take it."
"You don't have to keep it forever, if you don't want to," he said, standing up. "But with this damn curse upon me, I won't be able to stand by you to the very end. You will be on your own, maybe very soon, so whatever happens, I want you to know that I'm on your side."
He moved behind her, pushing her hair to the side. She didn't even know she was crying until she tasted the salt of her tears in her mouth. She allowed him to carefully clasp the necklace around her neck, but as it settled against her chest, she couldn't help but feel the weight of its significance. His breath swept over her shoulder, and she could feel him place a gentle kiss there. Her breath hitched in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. His mouth moved slowly, delicately tracing over her skin, leaving behind a faint ghost of his lips. It wandered until it found a spot low on her throat, where it gently brushed against her skin, placing another tender kiss there. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of his soft lips and reveling in the way he made her feel so incredibly alive. He pressed the final kiss on her cheek, lingering for a little bit longer, and her heart swelled in her chest.
Just as Theo was pulling away from her, they heard a distinct grunting sound, as if someone was clearing their throat. Looking up, they saw Madam Pince standing not far from their spot at the table, looking thoroughly displeased.
"A library is not a place for such behaviors," she scolded them.
"We're sorry," Hermione apologized, shooting up from her chair in embarrassment. She quickly packed her belongings, wishing to get away from the librarian's scrutinizing gaze as quickly as possible. She mumbled another sorry on their way out of the library.
She offered a stroll, having a lot to share with Theo and needing privacy for what she had to tell him. Given how easily he could distract her, she couldn't trust herself to take him to their usual meeting spot and be alone with him, as she probably wouldn't get much talking done. Despite the biting cold of winter, she paid no mind to the chill, having her hand tightly clasped in Theo's. His touch sent a fiery warmth coursing through her veins, heating her from the inside out.
"It sounds dangerous," Theo breathed out into the cold. "If there are indeed any wards, they won't be harmless or easy to break."
She tried to hide the smile that spilled on her face at the sound of concern in his voice. "We need to get inside, no matter the cost. Our time is running out. Also, I was hoping you would join me?"
Theo pulled his brows together, looking uncertain. "I'm not sure it's such a good idea," he said. "You shouldn't be alone with me."
She searched his eyes, squeezing his hand tighter. "I already told you, I'm not scared of you."
He held her gaze for a minute before dropping it down to the ground, pulling his hand away and taking the warmth with him. "I can't," he said, and her heart shrunk. "That doesn't mean I want you to go alone. You should ask Potter to accompany you."
She folded her arms, suddenly aware of the bite of the cold air. "That would mean I have to tell him what's going on," she said, challenging.
Theo didn't rise to the challenge, didn't snap at her, didn't start an argument. Instead, his shoulders slumped and he shrugged. "I know. Maybe it would be good for you. To talk to someone who isn't going to suddenly turn their back on you."
Hermione watched him silently, already feeling the distance he was putting between them. She hated how quickly he could close off, put up a wall around himself and in between them, forgetting she was right here, standing by his side. She didn't want to see the facade he could slip on so easily, not with her. There were so many words on the tip of her tongue, words of encouragement and affection, but for some reason, none of them seemed enough to get through to him, to make him see he had his hand wrapped around her heart and was shredding it to pieces.
"Will you do that?" he asked as the silence stretched between them.
She nodded in agreement.
She reached out to Harry, waited just a day for his reply in which he agreed to meet with her. She was very vague in her letter, not disclosing anything more than just needing his help with going through those books she had been telling him about previously.
They met at Grimmauld Place where Harry greeted her with a tight, warm hug. His embrace only intensified the sensation of how much she was missing him and his presence.
Hermione didn't even have to plead with the Headmistress for permission to leave the school's grounds this time as she had been given it wordlessly and with a pointed look.
The library here was a small collection, nothing that would take them too much time to read through, especially if they eliminated topics that didn't contain any useful information. She explained everything to Harry, the words tumbling out of her mouth with ease, watching his expression grow more concerned and confused with each new revelation.
Harry chuckled humorlessly. "Reminds me of our time together at school."
She hummed in agreement. "I didn't think that my last year would be so eventful, especially without you there."
"Hermione," he said, his expression shifting into a mask of seriousness. "What you've told me… You shouldn't go back there."
She looked at him with a sad smile. "You know I have to."
Harry shook his head. "You and other Muggle-borns seem to be the target of this curse. Don't you see how dangerous it is? We should tell the Ministry—"
"No," she interjected him. "We can't tell anyone. You can't tell anyone. In all the years of our—" she paused, "—adventures," she said, for the lack of a better word, "we always took it upon ourselves to brave through the hardships. Just help me find the way to break it, and please, don't tell anyone. Not even Ron. Especially not Ron."
Harry fixed his glasses, sighing heavily. "If we find the way," he said, "and we know exactly what it takes to break it. If it's something too dangerous, we will leave it in the hands of trained Aurors. I won't let you get hurt."
"When we find the counter-course," she emphasized, holding onto hope. "then we will talk about it, before either one of us decides on anything."
He nodded begrugingly. "Fine. We'll talk. I think I'm reading the last one and there doesn't seem to be anything useful here."
"I haven't found anything here, either. We should get going then. The secret library that Andromeda told me about is the last hope for us right now. We need to find it first and her directions seem kind of vague."
Harry chortled. "They're barely any directions. It will be a miracle if we manage to locate it."
They left London, because apparently, the library was hidden away somewhere on the outskirts of Scotland, in the middle of nowhere. Treading through the thick forest reminded her bitterly of the time they had gone searching for Horcruxes. She had an ominous sense of déjà vu.
The directions were, indeed, obscure and they had been walking for hours, seemingly in circles, trying to find the focal point, which was an enchanted tree which leaves shimmered with a subtle luminescence. As dusk settled, the darkness enveloped the forest, and navigating through the trees became a challenge. They pressed on, guided by their determination and the faint glow of their wands, seeking that distinctive shimmer that would mark their discovery.
As time wore on, and just as Hermione's hope was teetering on the edge of despair, she suddenly felt it—a delicate wisp of magic, followed by the sight of the mystical foliage, glimmering in the darkness. The forest grew dense and tangled, its ancient trees reaching towards the heavens, and there, in the middle, was truly a mesmerizing view. The delicate gleam looked absolutely stunning in the darkness, the leaves flickering with white glow. There was an aura of magic, pulling her closer, swinging subtly in the air.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if afraid that speaking too loudly might cause the enchanting scene before her to vanish.
"It is," Harry agreed. "Where to now?"
That was when it got trickier. They were supposed to follow the flow of magic, as Andromeda said, the ley lines laid there, coursing in the air. If they could focus on the faint feeling rushing through their bodies, and let it guide them, they would find what they came here looking for. She had already felt the pull of it, but she needed it to mark the path for her.
She closed her eyes, letting the magic inside of her, and the one around her, in the dark forest, speak to her, whisper into her mind, into her core, steer her. It was as if her feet moved of their own accord, lead by soft wisps of magic that seemed to intertwine with her very essence, directing her towards her destination. The sensation was undeniable, as if the mystical forces in the air seamlessly merged with her blood, forming an instinctual connection that guided her along the path she needed to follow. So she followed, in silence, hoping Harry was right behind her, trailing after her.
There it stood, nothing more than a broken ruin, on the verge of collapsing. To anyone passing by, it wouldn't be worth more than a disinterested glance, and maybe a look around for the more adventurous spirits.
They walked tentatively towards the ruin, the entrance covered by ivy and all kinds of vegetation. She heard a crush under her feet and would have tripped if it wasn't for Harry catching her in time. When she looked down, her expression grew horrified as she spotted a skull laying about.
"Oh my god," she yelped, gripping onto Harry with too much force.
"Just don't look down," he muttered, pulling her forward.
She kept her head held high, refusing to let her gaze waver from the entrance before her. She didn't want to imagine the grim fate that awaited them, considering the implication of death that seemed to be involved.
Her heart raced inside her chest as they stood in front of the way inside, blocked by a giant statue of a Falcon, its wings spread wide, eyes that were black hollow holes for some reason gave her a haunting feeling of being stared at. The second she took a step closer, the wings fluttered, its beak opened, and its eyes pooled with blood, streaming down and splattering onto the stoned path.
"What the—" Harry began, but his words caught in his throat as the statue made a grunting sound.
"Who dares to disturb me?" the Falcon spoke in a low growl, its voice reverberating through the quiet of the forest.
Harry gave her a startled glance, mouthing to her 'what now?'. She shrugged, because the scene unfolding in front of them wasn't somethings she had anticipated.
"We—" she started, hearing the shake in her voice and willing it into a stern, strong tone. "We would like to explore the library."
"You?" the statue hissed. "You think I can't smell it, can't see right through you, mudblood?"
Hermione winced at the insult, but otherwise showed no sign of hurt that stung her heart. She had heard enough of it in her life, she could slip on the mask of indifference. The vial of Andromeda's blood sit safely in her backpack and she reached for it, uncorking it.
The statue perked at that, sniffing in the air. "A Black's blood, hm? That's not going to help you. You're no Black. You're no witch."
It raised its leg, moving in on them, and Harry grabbed her, pulling her to the ground in time to avoid getting crushed under its' weight. They rolled away, pushing themselves back up, their wands at the ready. More than half of Andromeda's blood spilled, and she quickly stuffed the vial back into her bag, hoping not all of it would go to waste. There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that they needed it in someway; she just hadn't figured it out yet.
Not a single spell cast towards the marble creature worked, recoiling away from it with ease and causing damage to the surroundings. She barely escaped her own Diffindo that sliced clean through the bush right beside her head.
"It's not working!" she yelled at Harry.
She heard him grunt as the statue tried to grab onto him with its talons. Her mind was spinning with all the knowledge she inadvertently gained from reading through countless of books on dark magic, easily compartmentalized in her head, searching for the right spell that could work in this situation. Her stamina was hastily decreasing as she avoided the talons that tried to cut her into pieces, the beak that tried to break her in half, the force of the wind coming with the rapid flutter of the wings that made it hard to keep balance.
Think, think, think, she kept telling herself.
One of the talons finally caught into her jacket, pulling her up, up into the air and she yelled, fidgeting with the buttons, She just had to use a jacket with buttons instead of a simple zipper, didn't she? As the last button popped, she felt the impact of hitting the hard stone, felt her ribs break, and she had to fight to keep her mind from falling into the darkness. There was ringing in her ears and she thought she might have heard Harry scream. Or maybe it was the statue, growling from above her? She couldn't tell.
Her breathing became shallow, she had to swallow every breath with difficulty, and concentrating seemed an impossible task. She tried to get up, tried to help Harry, because what if she had just lead him here into the death's arms? The darkness enveloped her completely, her wand lost, her head pounding. What now?
Think, think, think, she kept telling herself over and over again.
She was remembering. It was—wrong. She fumbled in the dark, searching for her backpack. It had to be close, she didn't move an inch since falling down. Her hands were grabbing onto dried leaves, pebbles, until they finally found the soft material. She searched for the vial, desperately hoping there was still some red liquid inside of it. She crawled around, hearing hisses, growls, screams and yelps in the distance, feeling the earth shake under the weight of enraged statue chasing around. Her palm closed over a ragged edged rock, and without a second thought, she cut straight through her skin, drawing blood. The statue might not have its own blood, but there had been blood pouring out of its eye sockets, and there had to have been a Black's blood involved in making this thing come to life. She poured Andromeda's blood onto her arm, mixing it together with her own, closing her eyes and waiting for something, anything to happen. She felt her magic course through her veins, like a rapid current, twisting and bending, bleeding into her mind. A complete silence fell around her and she tried to make the statue break, will its obedience to her. The thought run through her mind, whispering into the void, looking for a connection, saying let us in, let us in, let us in. There was a push, a barrier, a defiance, but she pressed, harder, hissing now, cruelly and with maliciousness, you will let us in, I command you.
The air was still, the growls stopped and there was no movement. She got up, calling out for Harry, who suddenly appeared by her side, holding her up.
"Are you okay?" he whispered.
She grunted, telling him she was fine. They walked slowly, finding her wand on the stone, passing by the creature that was unmoving, suspended in the air, and finding a door open to the library's entrance. She sighed a breath of relief, pushing aside the realization of what she had to do in order to make it out alive. She didn't know if she would ever dare to think about this moment again.