Chapter 19 Laying a Foundation

"Moving away from melancoly, and returning to earlier questions, how do you know each other?" Adrian plopped down in the grass next to them. Hermione shifted her feet under her to make space. She looked at Marcus, he gestured for her to speak. She appreciated his willingness to allow her to determine how much to tell Adrian. "My parents and I, along with my maternal family, are practitioners of the druidic religion. We follow the old ways and celebrate those holidays, in the same ways wizards do.

"At one of these events we noticed each other. Marcus and Theo asked me about it at school. We bonded over our shared belief system."

"Is this how you survived OWLs without panicking?" demanded Adrian.

"Uh, yeah, Hermione and Nott."

"Arsehole," muttered Adrian.

"Look, I told you to revise more than the girls wanted to. Maggie's idea of revising couldn't be much different from Gemma's."

"Snogging next to the stacks?"

"Pretty much."

Hermione shook her head, "Retention through osmosis doesn't work. But kisses can be used as positive reinforcement and incentive."

Adrian cocked an eyebrow, "Huh?"

"You can't learn things just by being near them. But kisses can be used to reward hard work."

"But how do you hang out at school?"

Hermione shrugged, "In plain sight. Theo and I worked together in the library frequently. Did you ever notice? Did anyone? People only see what they want to or expect to."

"I think if we snogged in the Great Hall someone might notice," Marcus pointed out.

"Sure, but if that same someone saw us talking at the end of a corridor?"

Adrian looked thoughtful, "That Flint's being a bully."

"Exactly," nodded Hermione.

"What they don't know is that you're the bully," teased Marcus. She shoved him, "See?"

"You're lucky I like you, git."

"That's good since I quite fancy you." His eyes softened. A faint smile spread across his face. She returned the look.

"Shit, you do. And you do. Shite. Wow," babbled Adrian.

"I think we broke your mate," whispered Hermione.

"That's possible. You want to head home and let me try and fix him?"

She glanced at her watch, "Sounds like a plan. Don't let me fall down a research hole, yeah?"

"Will do, little witch," he kissed her. "Write you tonight?"

"Of course. Bye, Adrian."

"Good-bye, Hermione," he waved.

She headed into the house towards the floo, "Thank you for having me, Mrs. Flint."

"Of course, dear." smiled Mrs. Flint as she moved about the kitchen preparing dinner.

Hermione flooed back to Grimmauld Place. Remus jumped at the sight of her. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"You're fine, you just startled me," he patted her shoulder.

"Um, Remus? I've been meaning to ask you, if I wanted to find books by certain wizards, where would I go? Do wizards have centralized libraries?"

"It would depend on the wizard. Who did you want to find?"

"The works of John Dee."

He frowned, "That's awful heavy reading."

"Remus, let's not insult one another by pretending I can't handle it."

"You're correct, my apologies. I happen to know that Dee has three collections: one at the University of Oxford, one the the Ministry, and one at the Library of Alexandria."

"The Library of Alexandria? The one that burned down losing vast amounts of knowledge in the ancient world? The one that wizards saved but had to keep from muggles?"

Remus chuckled, "Yes, that one. The issue there is that it requires an invitation. It can take decades to obtain one."

"Drat, Oxford and the ministry it is then." Her shoulders slumped.

"Why do you even want to look through his works?"

"I want to look into blood curses."

"Those are quite nasty. There are no counters or reversals. They span generations."

"There are no counters or reversals, yet. I am aware. I still feel driven to see if I can heal or, at the least, help them."

"Hermione," he started. She held up her hand, grabbed a sharp implement and sliced her palm open. The wound visibly sealed itself, the healing beginning the moment she cut it. But the time she put the letter opener down the only remaining evidence was the blood on it and dripping from her palm. "Are you?"

"A healer? Yes, it isn't infinite and if I'm drained it slows or stops. Natural defense to keep me from accidentally draining myself to death. I don't know if I can do anything for blood curses, but I want to try. It bothers me that someone can harm others for eternity."

"I'll see what I can find about his journals at the ministry for you," he promised.

"Thank you. I'll see if Marcus wants to come with me to Oxford."

"How romantic," teased Remus.

"He knows what he got himself into," she shrugged. "On second thought, I may need someone who looks old enough to be in uni."

"Perhaps a Weasley," Sirius suggested announcing his presence as he entered the room. "Bill moved home to be closer to family. Or Percy, he would sound like a proper scholar. Probably looks like one, too."

She considered the matter, "Bill might be able to get off work through the week easier. But I'll talk to both of them."

Mrs. Weasley's belief that two bachelors couldn't properly oversee a household ensured the Weasley family visited frequently. Temporarily living at home, Bill accompanied the others on occasion. Mrs. Weasley inspected the townhouse looking for new places to clean. "Mental," Ron whispered to Harry. They fled to the sanctuary of Harry's room. Her mother caught Ginny and dragged her on the search. Sirius took the twins into his study to discuss business, winking at Hermione as they went. Remus distracted Mr. Weasley.

"And then there were two," joked Bill.

"Which works because I have a proposition for you," she quipped. A look of horror spread across Bill's face. Hermione howled with laughter. "Not that kind of proposition, prat. I need a favor."

He put a hand on his chest, "Don't scare me like that."

"Be less gullible," she shrugged. "Who'd want an old man like you anyway? I want to do some research at Oxford, but no one is going to believe I'm old enough to be an undergrad, let alone a grad student. I need someone to accompany, and cover for, me."

"When?"

"Before we go back to school. The sooner the better. And it would cause less suspicion if we went during the week. You're suppose to be a student."

"Okay, but I have a favor to ask in return." He crossed his arms and leaned back.

She smiled, "Fair enough."

"Mum isn't best pleased with my new girlfriend. The others don't seem to be warming up to her, and it would be appreciated if someone was friendly."

"Your siblings aren't being friendly? And you expect me to believe Molly Weasley has grandchildren within her grasp and she's not shoving you down the aisle?"

"Fleur's foreign and younger than me, seven years younger. Mum has opinions about her being French. Her being a Veela doesn't help. The others are trying to stay neutral, safer that way."

"Fleur, as in Fleur Delacour? How?"

"Yes, she's working at Gringotts to improve her English. We had lunch, then dinner, and before I knew it we were dating seriously."

"I will try to be friendly. But if she's rude I reserve the right to retaliate."

"That's all I can ask. I'm off Tuesday. We can meet at the Leaky around nine."

"Sounds good, thanks, Bill."

Tuesday morning Hermione smiled when Neville, Seamus, and Dean flooed into the front parlor, "Hello, boys, Good-bye, boys."

"You're leaving?" questioned Neville.

"I have plans to visit a muggle library. Swottish, I know."

"And why we love you," joked Dean. "Seriously, we do love you, have fun."

"Thanks," she waved and made her way to the Leaky Cauldron. Scanning the taproom she located Bill seated at a table finishing a cup of coffee. She slid into the chair across from him. "Good morning."

"Hello, Hermione. Have you eaten?"

She nodded, "Kreacher refuses to let me out the door without something, and I never eat as much as he would like.

"Good to hear he's getting along better with Sirius," said Bill. "George says he dotes on you and Harry."

"Remus has Winky. And he and Sirius will always have a strained relationship."

"Fred implied he is more concerned with your welfare than Harry's."

She sniffed, "Fred likes to be a pest."

Bill gave her a look she couldn't decipher. "Well, I'm ready. Let's go." He stood, left money on the table for his drink, and waved to Tom behind the bar. "Where to?"

"Bodleian Library at Oxford University. Can you apparate us there with just a photo?"

"I could, but I've been there before." He offered her his arm. She braced herself and took it. The squeezing sensation left her nauseated. She swayed on her feet as the world spun. "Steady there." Once her equilibrium returned, they entered the library, "So what are we researching?"

"John Dee's work on blood curses. I don't know how much will be here, but this is the collection I can access the easiest."

Bill halted, he stared at her, "Blood curses are serious business, Hermione." She stopped as well.

"Can't be cured, span generations, blah, blah, blah," she started walking again. "Indulge me."

"Seriously, Hermione, blood curses are nothing to play around with."

"I'm not going to use one. I want to understand them."

"Why?" pushed Bill.

"That's the first step in countering them," she said matter-of-factly.

"Hermione," Bill put his hand on her shoulder to stop her.

She turned, "Look, Bill, I know everything you're going to say. But I believe in doing seven impossible things every day." To forestall his protest she held up her left arm. "Mostly because they keep happening."

"Holy fuck!" exclaimed Bill. "You're..."

"Yes, I am. Now, Dee and his work on blood curses."

He cleared his throat, "Erm, yes, this way." He lead her to a research desk. "Hello, I'm needing to do some reading on the works of John Dee. Can you direct me?"

The pretty blonde uni student dimpled at Bill. She glanced at and dismissed Hermione as too young to be his girlfriend or competition. "Certainly," she fluttered her eyelashes. Consulting her directory, "Up the stairs to the third floor, go the left, second corridor, third door. If you have any issues my name is Nina."

"Thank, Nina," he flashed her a toothy grin. They climbed the stairs and followed her directions to another reference desk. A small sign indicated the attendant would return at nine fifteen. A glance at the clock showed it would be a short wait. "What should I use to cover?"

"John Dee was Queen Elizabeth I's court magician, muggle historians know all about his experiments. Anne Boleyn was a witch, but I don't believe her daughter was. And if she was I don't think she was educated. But she trusted her magician. Her cousin and heir, James I or IV, did not. You're looking into his projects."

"Right," he nodded.

A door leading to a small office opened. A brown haired librarian backed out. He spoke as he turned, "How can I help... Bill? Bill Weasley! How have you been?"

"Myles Talisen! I've been good. You?"

"As well as can be. I thought you were in Egypt?"

"I was. Gringotts transferred me home for a bit. Touch homesick, you know."

"Understandable. I studied abroad for a time as well. Good to be home." Myles looked at Hermione. "Is this little Ginny?"

"No, Myles, Hermione Granger. Hermione, Myles Talisen. We were housemates at school."

"Hello," she waved.

"Nice to meet you. Now, how can I help you?"

"Hermione wants to look into some of John Dee's work." Myles raised an eyebrow, "She's a bright lass, don't worry about her."

"Anything in particular?" he inquired.

"His true magical workings and blood curses," she answered. "Please spare me the lectures, I know." He stared at her in obvious surprise.

"Okay," he said slowly. "We don't have much on blood curses, but we do have his work in illnesses and curses in general. Including his thoughts on curse creations, does that work?"

"Yes, thank you."

"If you give me an address I will create copies for you and post them," offered Myles.

She jotted down Sirius's address and handed it over. She rested her arms on the counter, leaning on it somewhat. She let her mind wander as Bill and his school chum caught up with each other and discussed others they both knew. Another librarian joined them. The pump middle aged woman began sorting a pile of papers. Every so often she glanced at the younger men or Hermione. "Oh, that's lovely, pet. How did you get the ink to shimmer like that?" She pointed at the wrist mark.

Hermione glanced down as did Bill and Myles. "Metallic marker," she dismissed off hand. She noticed Myles eyes widen dramatically, he knew what it meant.

"Well, it's very lovely. I'm off to the stacks, Myles, dear," she patted him on the upper arm as she passed him.

"Okay, Maddy, thank you." Once she was out of earshot he looked at Hermione. "Metallic marker?"

She shrugged, "Metallic marker, magical bonds, take your pick."

"Have you considered the Library of Alexandria in your search?"

"Sure, but how does a fifteen-year-old get an invitation without drawing everyone's attention?"

"That would be an issue. I have a friend who works there. Would you like to me to express your subject of interest and request for information? Anonymously, of course."

"If you would, yes. Please."

"Just Dee's works or anything on blood curses?"

"Blood curses."

"I'll write Erica as soon as you leave," he promised.

"And that is our cue," laughed Bill. Hermione made a show of playfully dragging him away.

Mrs. Weasley invited the Black household to dinner at the Burrow. "She wants to show off her cooking skill," confided Ginny. "And inflict Bill's new girlfriend on more people."

"You don't like Fleur?" questioned Hermione.

"You mean Phlegm? No, not particularly," Ginny sniffed.

"But if she makes Bill happy, shouldn't we give her a chance?"

"Spend fifteen minutes with her and ask me again," Ginny said flatly.

Determined to fulfill her favor to Bill, she joined the French witch and Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen. The older witch seemed to be struggling to share her kitchen with the younger. For her part, Fleur continued to interject her thoughts and preferences for cooking. Mrs. Weasley noticed Hermione and and asked her to prepare the potatoes for mashing. Fleur began instructing her on how to do it. Mrs. Weasley sighed dramatically. Hermione ignored them both and prepared the potatoes the way her nana had taught her.

She waited until the matriarch left the kitchen for a minute before she spoke, "Treating the rest of us like little children won't make Mrs. Weasley like you any better, but it is alienating your best allies in the fight." Fleur's face pinched sourly. She remained silently so Hermione continued. "She isn't so concerned with your age, she explained to me about the long lives of magical people and why it isn't an issue when I asked a few years ago. She's more concerned you care for her son and value his thoughts, feelings, and his connection to his family. Family is very important to the Weasleys."

"What do you suggest?" Fleur asked in a quiet voice.

"Not today, but soon ask her to teach you one of Bill's favorite meals. Even if you never make it the way she does, take notes. It will flatter her and show an interest in Bill. Outside if of how nice jeans make his arse look." She giggled at Fleur's glare. "What? I have eyes and while the effort isn't for me, I can enjoy it. Also stop talking down to his siblings. You do not want Ginny to convince the twins to use you as their new guinea pig." Fleur raised an eyebrow. "The person they test new joke products on. Unless you want to see what you would look like green or bald, and possibly both. At the same time."

Fleur swallowed hard and shuddered in dread, "I do not. Thank you for your advice."

"You're welcome. Your English is coming along nicely," she added changing the subject.

"Merci. J'essaie, certains jours sont meilleurs ques d'autres. C'était un soulagement. Parler français me manque parfois. (Thank you. I try, some days are better than others. I miss speaking French sometimes.)

"Je comprends. De rien." (I understand. You're welcome.)

During Dinner Fleur displayed polite interest in each of Bill's siblings without condescending at them or implying they were childish. Ron's vacant expresion grew more vacant, which hardly seemed possible. She took a bite of shepherd's pie and smiled, "Madame Weasley, c'est magnifique!" Mrs. Weasley beamed and Bill smiled at Hermione who winked.

"Thank you, dear. I'm glad you like it. I know it's different than what you're used to."

"You mentioned Bill prefers it with lamb. Perhaps you can teach me how to make it?"

"I would be honored to, and maybe one of his favorite desserts, too."

"That would be lovely."