Code Ch.10
The castle had never felt so oppressive. Without the familiar presence of Harry and Ron, Hogwarts was nothing more than a hollow, stone cage. The magical world she once cherished seemed to be collapsing in on itself, and the weight of the war pressed down harder each day. As Hermione passed through the dim corridors, she couldn't help but feel as though the walls themselves were closing in, suffocating her with their silence.
Her role as Head Girl was nothing like she had imagined—constant surveillance, paranoia, and the ever-frustrating presence of Draco Malfoy.
Despite being Head Boy, Draco made it his mission to be as infuriating as possible. Their encounters had become a daily routine of arguments, a verbal sparring that left her drained. It wasn't just his sharp words or condescending smirks that irritated her—it was the fact that he was always watching. His gaze followed her like a shadow, lingering a little too long, as though he were searching for something hidden beneath the surface.
The last encounter with him had left her more rattled than she cared to admit. His cryptic comment about "secrets" still echoed in her mind. Did he suspect something? Did he know? She couldn't afford to let her guard down, not with the locket's dark presence tucked away in her dormitory. The Horcrux was a constant, gnawing reminder of the dangerous game she was playing.
As she stepped into her dormitory that evening, her body slumped from exhaustion, but she froze when she saw a small, unfamiliar piece of parchment lying on her desk.
Her heart quickened. No one should have access to her room, and yet there it was—a folded, nondescript slip of paper resting atop her notes, as if it had been waiting for her.
Cautiously, she reached out, fingers brushing the parchment as a wave of dread washed over her. She unfolded it slowly, scanning for any signs of tampering or hexes.
The message inside was brief and direct, written in plain, almost bland handwriting:
"Check the library for more material on Runes. We might need extra insight into translation spells. The section on magical artifacts could be helpful. See you soon. - Stag and Dog."
Hermione frowned. The message seemed casual, but the signature sent chills down her spine. Stag and Dog. Only two people would refer to themselves that way. It was a signal, a secret code they had devised before parting ways—Harry as "Stag" and Ron as "Dog."
Her breath caught. This wasn't just an innocent note; it was them reaching out from wherever they were hiding. But the message was too vague, too simple, for anyone else to understand its weight. Her eyes darted across the words, her mind already working. Stag and Dog wouldn't send something like this without hiding a deeper meaning beneath the surface. Besides they had already sent her the letter about meeting up with them.
And what was this about the library? Runes? Magical artifacts? She sat down at her desk, the familiar thrill of deciphering a mystery overtaking her exhaustion. The first step would be to check for any basic charms, anything that might reveal more beneath the ink. She drew her wand and whispered, "Aparecium."
Nothing happened.
Leaning back, she chewed her lip in thought. No, Harry wouldn't use such an obvious trick, Ron however….she wouldn't put it past him. If this was truly from him and not Ron, it would be far more subtle. She had taught him codes for months before separating. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to recall the lessons they had drilled into each other. Harry had favoured a Caesar cipher, but this didn't look like one. She needed to dig deeper.
After scanning the parchment again, she caught something unusual—every third word seemed to be strategically placed. Quickly, she jotted them down:
"Check… library… Runes. Need… translation… artifacts."
A shiver ran down her spine. This wasn't a message about research—it was about something else entirely. Hermione's mind worked furiously, stringing the words together, but the meaning wasn't clear enough. She leaned closer, focusing on the structure, and then it hit her. Harry loved patterns. The third-word rule was a clue, but not the whole picture. There was something more beneath it.
She grabbed another piece of parchment and began writing out the odd-numbered letters from the text, counting each one meticulously, looking for a cipher hidden within the sentences. Slowly, the letters formed into a coherent message.
S-E-P-A-R-A-T-I-O-N L-O-C-K-E-T D-A-N-G-E-R.
Her heart raced.
Separation. Locket. Danger.
Harry was warning her that the Horcrux she had been hiding for them—the locket—was putting her at risk. She thought back to when she first received it. The weight of it had felt wrong from the start, heavier than a simple piece of jewellery should be. The dark magic inside it seemed to pulse, an insidious energy she couldn't quite explain.
She had been careful, hiding it away where no one could find it, not even Draco. But his message meant something had changed. Either the locket was affecting her more than she realized, or someone—possibly Draco—was getting too close.
A soft knock at the door made Hermione jump, the parchment slipping from her hands. She quickly stuffed the note into her pocket, forcing herself to appear calm. The knock came again, more impatient this time.
It was Draco.
She opened the door just as his usual smirk appeared. "Granger, late again?" His voice was mocking, but his eyes were sharp, as though he had been watching her longer than he let on.
"I'm coming," Hermione said curtly, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind her. She didn't trust Draco anywhere near her dormitory. Not with the locket hidden away inside.
They walked down the corridor, Draco's footsteps echoing beside hers. His presence was a constant reminder of her predicament. She couldn't let him suspect anything about the Horcrux. But even as she tried to focus on keeping her composure, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that Draco was watching her more closely than before.
"You've been acting strange," he commented, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. "More than usual, I mean."
Hermione didn't miss a step, though her pulse quickened. "I've been busy. Some of us take our responsibilities seriously."
Draco raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Responsibilities. Right. And I'm sure none of those involve sneaking around with secret messages, do they?"
Her heart lurched, but she kept her expression neutral. "What are you on about, Malfoy?"
"Oh, nothing." Draco's voice was airy, but his eyes flicked briefly to her pocket, where the note from Stag and Dog was still tucked away. "Just that you're not as subtle as you think you are."
Hermione's stomach twisted. Did he know? No, he couldn't. She'd been careful—no one had seen the letters, and there was no way Draco could have guessed what it contained.
But Draco was too perceptive for his own good, and the way he looked at her now, with that knowing smirk, made her doubt everything. She had to play this carefully. Draco may not know about the locket, but he clearly suspected she was hiding something.
"You're imagining things, Malfoy," Hermione said coldly. "Not everything is a conspiracy."
Draco's smirk widened, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary before he turned away. "If you say so, Granger. Just be careful. Hogwarts is full of secrets, and not all of them are as well-hidden as you think."
Later that night, after managing to evade Draco's scrutiny for the rest of the evening, Hermione sat alone in her dormitory, the flickering light from the fireplace casting long shadows across the room. She pulled the note from her pocket, her eyes scanning the message once more.
Separation. Locket. Danger.
The words weighed heavily on her mind. The locket was no longer safe here. She had to move it, but where? Draco was watching her too closely.
The Horcrux felt like it was burning a hole in her soul. Its dark magic was subtle, creeping, like a fog that clouded her thoughts when she least expected it. Every day it felt heavier, drawing her closer to some unseen edge.
Harry and Ron had warned her. The locket was dangerous. She knew it in her bones, but the weight of her responsibility kept her from letting it go. It was her burden to bear now, and she would have to figure out how to protect it—and herself—before it consumed her.
