Hermione stood very still, her wand still in her hand. Sylvia watched her from across the room. Sylvia was circling around the room slowly on the outside, Hermione turning to make sure she was always facing her, her wand still aloft, her nerves on edge.
Sylvia Lestrange. Hermione would have never thought the kind young woman from her summer internship would ever become someone who would abduct a child. Because that was what had happened here – a sudden abduction into the depths of the Department of Mysteries. And with a Portkey, no less, which meant this had to have been planned out in advance.
Which made sense, Hermione figured. Sylvia had already declared she was here to blackmail her. Blackmail wasn't exactly a crime of opportunity.
"Let's get a little more light in here, shall we?" Sylvia suggested. She waved a hand carelessly at the walls and the torches on the walls lit themselves, casting a flickering glow into the room. The light the flames added barely seemed to make a difference; it was as if the light was all sucked up into the darkness above. "There."
"I need to go back to Hogwarts," Hermione said. She fought to keep her voice from quavering. "Dumbledore will wonder where I am."
"He will," Sylvia said, shrugging. "Oh well."
Hermione stared at her. Sylvia just looked back at her, hands in her pockets.
"I don't know what you want," Hermione said slowly, "but I'm only the Youth Representative on the Wizengamot. I don't have much say in anything."
"I'm not interested in your political position," Sylvia said. She raised an eyebrow. "I'm much more interested in something else you have."
"And what's that?" Hermione asked, apprehensive. "My coven?"
"No," Sylvia said. "The Philosopher's Stone."
Hermione's blood ran cold.
Sylvia's eyes gleamed.
"You have the Philosopher's Stone," she said, circling Hermione slowly. "I've caught a goblin buying lead bars twice now, and you were seen carrying an ingot of solid gold through Diagon Alley recently."
Hermione felt like she couldn't breathe.
"It was from my vault," she protested. "And I don't know what the goblins are doing—"
Sylvia rolled her eyes.
"I don't have the patience for this," she snapped suddenly. "I'm not going to play games. You have the Philosopher's Stone. I want something from it."
"What, gold?" Hermione said. "If this is blackmail, I assure you, I can pay you with galleons, not literal gold bars—"
"No," said Sylvia. "The Elixir of Life."
Hermione froze.
The Elixir of Life. Hermione knew, in theory, that the Philosopher's Stone could make it somehow – it had been why Voldemort had gone after the stone, back when he was still possessing Quirrell. She'd never explored its potential herself. To be fair to herself, though – she'd only really realized she had the Philosopher's Stone in her vault and the implications of that less than a year ago.
And now, Sylvia Lestrange wanted it. Sylvia Lestrange. A reasonable Lestrange, to be sure, but a Lestrange nonetheless – a family with very Dark connections indeed. And a Lestrange who had just kidnapped her… so maybe not such a reasonable Lestrange after all.
Hermione bit her lip. Sylvia's eyes seemed to glow in the darkness.
"…I don't know how to make the Elixir of Life," Hermione said carefully. "I know it's possible, but I don't know how. And you have to drink it continually to have it extend your lifespan."
"I'm not interested in living forever," Sylvia said pleasantly. "I only need one flask of it."
Hermione paused.
"…one flask of it?" she repeated. "One?"
"One."
Hermione didn't know what good someone could do with one flask. Perhaps temporary immortality during a risky situation?
There had to be some reason for it, though. Sylvia had abducted her, inside of the Ministry of Magic, to blackmail her. Even as unstable as she seemed right now, Sylvia was smart – she'd been recruited for the Department of Mysteries for a reason. She wouldn't have risked getting caught unless there was an immense payoff or important reason.
"Why should I help you with this dodgy scheme?" Hermione asked, folding her arms. "Even if it gets out that I have the Philosopher's Stone, it's in Gringotts. No one can steal it from me. And technically, I won it from the obstacle course – it's mine by rights."
"Oh, no!" Sylvia started laughing. "No, no, no. I don't care about the stone. I'm not blackmailing you over that." She laughed again, genuinely amused and shaking her head, before she straightened, her eyes gleaming. "I'm blackmailing you over being a New Blood."
"Being a New Blood?" Hermione repeated, not understanding. "Everyone already knows I'm a New Blood."
"Everyone thinks you're a New Blood," Sylvia corrected. Her eyes glinted. "But what if they knew the truth…?"
She pulled out a small tome from her robes, flipping it open. Hermione felt her heart clench in her throat.
"You were smart," Sylvia mused aloud, circling Hermione slowly. "The Pureblood Directory was exactly the right book to pick. Everyone important had a copy of it, but no one reads the intro chapters carefully – they all just want the list." She raised an eyebrow at her. "So once it came out that 'New Blood' was very rare but was defined in the directory, it became a genuine possibility for you."
Hermione's mouth was dry.
"But you were very young," Sylvia said, "and you forgot something important." She gave Hermione a very sad look. "Do you know what that might be?"
Hermione couldn't find her words. Sylvia's face smiled at her, firelight flickering across it.
"You forgot that we always have two copies printed," she told her, flipping through the pages. "The master… and the original."
Hermione's heart stopped.
It had been years since she'd worked at Lleuwlyn & Selwyn. Years. She'd been a copy editor, grammar-checking manuscripts as a summer internship. She'd learned that the printing press printed a Master copy, and it was that copy that all other copies were duplicated from and connected to. Any changes to the Master copy were reflected in all duplicates made from it. Hermione taken a chance and acted on a whim, getting a Muggleborn Ravenclaw to help her alter the Pureblood Directory to add a section on 'New Blood' to add credibility to her claim. And because she'd altered the Master copy, anyone who went to their own copy to verify had seen her addition, unaware there had ever been a change.
But there had been a second copy printed – one that was specifically charmed to never be altered or changed.
"When I left Lleuwlynn & Selwyn," Sylvia said, "I took a book with me. Do you think you might know what that book could be?"
Hermione swallowed hard.
"The Pureblood Directory," she whispered, a lump in her throat. "The original."
"Bingo!" Sylvia said. She winked at her. "And guess what? This copy has absolutely nothing in it about New Bloods!"
She held her hand to her mouth in mock horror, then gave Hermione a very sorry look.
"Wouldn't it be a shame if this got out?" Sylvia said. "The first New Blood in centuries… all based on a lie. People would be crushed. Do you know how many followers you've actually got from that little prophecy being published in The Quibbler?"
Hermione had no idea. She didn't think very many.
"And they'd all have their hearts broken," Sylvia said, fluttering her eyelashes and putting her own hand to her heart. "It would be tragic. They would all be so upset."
Hermione didn't have much experience with Sylvia Lestrange in person. She didn't know her well enough to accurately predict what she might do. Sylvia had been kind to her when she worked at the publisher with her, she'd been sarcastic and tongue-in-cheek when Hermione had seen her at her mother's house, and she'd been intimidating and ominous when she'd shown up at the train station…
Was this what Sylvia had been hinting at, when she'd randomly shown up at King's Cross?
"What do you want?" Hermione asked. She kept her voice remarkably even, and Sylvia turned to look at her, a sharp smile on her face.
"I already told you," she said quietly. "I want the Elixir of Life."
"I don't know how," Hermione protested. "I honestly don't."
"The figure it out," Sylvia hissed. She stalked closer to Hermione, looking into her eyes, and Hermione fought not to cower in front of her. "I don't need tons of it – I need one dose of it." She paused. "Maybe two or three. I'll figure it out after the first one. But I need it. And you're going to get it for me."
Hermione swallowed hard.
"What's to stop you from holding this over my head for forever?" she asked, voice shaking. "If you're going to make me keep doing this—"
"I'll trade you," Sylvia said immediately. "The original Pureblood Directory – the book that will damn you – for the Elixir of Life."
Hermione took a breath.
"Do you promise?" she said, shakily. "If I do this—"
"I need it by Midsummer," Sylvia warned.
"I'm still in school!" Hermione protested. "How am I supposed to figure this out or get this to you by—"
"I don't care," Sylvia said patiently. "That's when I need it by. Find a way."
Her eyes glowed in the flickering light, and Hermione swallowed hard.
"Alright," she said. "I'll do it. I'll find a way."
Sylvia's face brightened, then split into a smile. It wasn't a very warm or kind smile.
"Excellent," she said softly. "That's excellent."
Hermione really didn't think it was.
