Nott Manor
The scent of salt air enveloped Hermione as she Apparated to the gates of Nott Manor. Nestled in a secluded corner of the Isles of Scilly, the manor had been the ancestral home of the Nott family for centuries. Its dark, imposing silhouette stood stark against the rugged coastline, casting long shadows over the windswept grounds.
She had only visited Luna and Theo at Nott manor a few times since their marriage, each time finding herself enveloped in the manor's ominous grandeur. Theo had inherited it following, the incarceration of his father, who had died in Azkaban a few years after being captured attempting to flee the final battle when Voldemort had fallen.
Theo had never taken the Dark Mark, despite the intense pressure from his father, one of the original inner circle Death Eaters. During the final battle, Theo had joined the ranks of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix, fighting against Voldemort's forces.
After inheriting the family estate, Theo faced the daunting task of restoring the manor to its former state. It had become saturated with dark magic, evidence of his father's descent into madness from years of experimentation with the dark arts. Removing the lingering dark artifacts and dark energies became Theo's mission, though it was far from an easy task, he had been making slow but steady progress over the years.
A metallic clang rang out as the wrought-iron gates swung open, allowing Hermione entrance to the Manor grounds. The gravel crunched under her feet as she walked towards the main entrance.
Arriving at the entrance the heavy wooden door creaked open before she reached it, revealing Theo Nott standing in the doorway, a wry smile on his lips and his eyes gleaming with mirth.
Theo grinned as Hermione approached, leaning against the doorframe. “Still managing not to turn the Ministry upside down, Granger?”
Hermione’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Just barely. I think they appreciate my ability to avoid total catastrophe.”
Theo chuckled, stepping aside to let her in. “I imagine they do. Glad to know you're keeping them on their toes.”
Hermione's smile widened as she crossed the threshold into the dimly lit entrance hall. “How have you been, Theo? Any progress with your father's study?”
“I was finally able to get some of the darker items out of it,” Theo replied, his face twisting into a grimace. “I was especially pleased to finally be rid of the wall of floating Inferi heads in jars. Could barely stand being in there long enough to get anything done, with their heads jerking and eyes following you around the room, they’d even gnash their teeth at you like rabid dogs.”
He paused, his gaze unfocused, “To have such a thing staring at you while you worked, day in and day out...” His voice trailed off, a shudder rippling through his shoulders. “He was quite mad.”
Hermione's expression softened, sensing the weight of memories pressing down on Theo. “I imagine it's not easy,” she said gently, her eyes flickering to the portraits lining the hallway, stern faces of Nott ancestors gazing back at her. “But it sounds like you're making headway.”
Theo's eyes refocused, his mouth twisting into a rueful smile. “I know. It's just... it’s difficult to see how far he'd fallen, and how much darkness he brought to this place. But I'm making progress, and that's what matters.”
Hermione nodded, offering him an encouraging smile. “Absolutely. Each step forward is a step toward rebuilding your family's legacy, for yourself and the generations to come.”
Theo gave a small nod, a hint of determination flickering in his eyes. “You're right. It's a battle, but I'm winning it, bit by bit. It would have been easy to follow in his footsteps, to just give in and stand at his side,” he said, clutching his arm, where the dark mark would have been burned into his skin. “I'm so thankful I didn't. If I had, I would never have married the love of my life”, his expression turning soft.
“You've done well to carve your own path, Theo,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm. “I'm happy for you.”
Theo's eyes flicked to her, curiosity and concern showing on his face. “So, blood magic, huh? That's a rather dark subject, Hermione.”
Hermione's posture stiffened, her voice adopting what Harry dubbed 'lecture mode'. “Magic is a matter of intent. Yes, blood magic has been used for dark rituals in recent history, but take the wards placed around Harry's aunt's house for his protection. That's not dark magic” she ended with a nod.
Theo swallowed; his gaze fixed on Hermione. “Correct, magic is about intent, but with blood magic, it isn't that simple. It comes at a cost, whether it's a few drops of blood, severed limbs or something more sinister, like the caster's sanity”, a knowing look in his eyes.
He paused, his eyes narrowing. “There are tales of offerings being rejected and instead backfiring on the caster, turning the intended spell into a curse, like what happened a century ago with the Greengrass's, others have gone missing and never seen or heard from again, and those are the lucky ones, the worst cases are of those that went mad and fell into a bloodlust killing friends and family. Blood magic is a highly volatile branch, and that's why it's rarely used nowadays. The ancients' reliance on blood led to chaos. You need to be cautious, Hermione.”
Hermione's expression softened, “I understand, Theo, and I appreciate your concern. But I'm not taking this lightly. I know the risks, and that's why I'm approaching this with as much care and caution as I can. Blood magic may be volatile, but it might also hold the key to my research on the on the tome and the scroll. I can't ignore the potential here, even if it means treading dangerous ground.”
Theo's lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes searching hers. “Just... be careful, all right? Don't let this consume you.”
Hermione nodded, her expression firm. “I promise, Theo. I know what I'm doing. Let's just focus on finding what we can in your library.”
~~**~~**~~**~~
Hermione's eyes scanned the page before her, she'd been holed up in the Nott library for several hours, the yellow glow of the chandelier casting elongated shadows over the heavy wooden table were discarded tomes had accumulated. The musty scent of aging paper filled her nostrils, mingling with the aroma of her ink and the dust floating in air from disturbing books that hadn’t been touched in ages.
Damn Purebloods hoarding their knowledge, it’s been collecting dust for centuries, she thought, her fingers grazing a brittle page.
The translation of the scroll had been progressing steadily, thanks in no small part to Theo's discovery of an old family grimoire, from when his ancestors had settled in the Isles of Scilly before William the Conqueror's invasion of England. Despite its lack of information on blood magic, it contained research from one of Theo's ancestors, who had been very interested in ancient Sumerian cuneiform script and 8th-century Etruscan, languages unfamiliar to Hermione.
What helped, she thought, her brow lifting, was the grimoire's translations into Brythonic, a language I'm more comfortable with.
She had been able to make progress by cross-referencing the grimoire's Brythonic translations with her own notes. Furthermore, the grimoire provided another crucial lead: the obscure runes she'd seen on the scroll were Atlantean. She now knew the name of the ancient civilization rumored to have created the blueprint for the Time-Turner. The grimoire even contained a few translated runes from Atlantean into Sumerian.
However, Hermione had noticed early on that the translations were jumbled and nonsensical, as if someone had thrown words and numbers together haphazardly.
It's all out of order, she muttered her fingers trailing over the parchment. But why?
From the little she had managed to unscramble using Arithmancy equations, the scroll spoke of a magical power source unlike anything she had ever encountered or heard. It described the ability to master the elements, even conjuring food from nothing.
Impossible! Hermione thought, her eyes narrowing at the scroll.
Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration forbids that. She continued to read, her brow furrowing. If such a power truly existed, where was it now? Why hadn't the magical community discovered it?
“This doesn't make sense”, she muttered to herself, feeling a knot of uncertainty twist in her stomach.
If this source existed, surely, we'd know about it.
Across the room, beyond a black wrought-iron gate that sectioned off a warded area, Theo's voice suddenly broke the silence. “Hermione! You've got to see this!”
Hermione turned in the direction of Theo's voice, her lips quirking into a half-smile. “Another dark artefact or an ancient recipe for blood pudding?” she called back, her lips quirking into a half-smile.
Theo's silhouette appeared at the gate; a thick book clutched in one hand. “Neither smarty-pants. It's something far more interesting.”
Hermione stood up, striding across the room toward the gated section. The iron bars groaned softly as Theo pushed the gate open, letting her through.
He handed her the book, “I put all my father's collection into this area. I know it held a lot of books on dark magic, but... knowledge is knowledge. I couldn't bring myself to burn them. Some say that destroying knowledge is akin to erasing a part of history.”
Hermione's fingers gently trailed over the book's spine, her eyes narrowing. “I understand, Theo. These texts reveal much about the past, and perhaps by studying them, we can help prevent others from following similar paths.”
Theo's gaze returned to the shelves, confusion crossing his face. “Why is this book here though? It doesn't belong with the dark magic texts.”
“I'm not sure,” Hermione replied, flipping through the pages. “You said you just moved all the books from the study to here?”
“Yes,” Theo nodded, “I was going to go through them later but haven't had the chance.”
"Interesting," Hermione murmured, her eyes widening as she stopped on a page, her breath catching. The same insignia from the scroll stared back at her. "Merlin's beard, Theo! It's the same insignia!"
She turned, bolting from the gated section of the library back to where she'd left the scroll. Placing the book beside it, she flipped it open to the page with the insignia.
“I was getting to that, if you’d have given me a minute” he said strolling over to the table.
“See? It's the exact same!” she exclaimed; ignoring Theo she continued, “Do you know where your dad got this book?”
“I'm not sure, I've never seen it before,” Theo admitted, stepping closer.
As Theo spoke, Hermione brought the scroll and the book together, examining them side by side.
Suddenly, a flash of light erupted from the pages, much like the one that had occurred in Archibald's office. When the light faded, the book lay open, revealing pages upon pages filled with Atlantean text.
“Blimey,” Theo muttered, his eyes widening. “It’s like the book recognized the scroll.”
Hermione's fingers danced over the text, her heart pounding. “This... this is incredible,”
She drew in a breath, her eyes gleaming, a surge of anticipation within her.
“Wait,” Hermione said, her voice brimming with excitement. “Let's test if the tome from the Death Chamber has a similar response to the book.”
She grabbed the heavy tome from the table where she'd first placed it, her fingers brushing over its worn cover. Moving it over to the book and scroll, she set it on top, holding her breath in anticipation. Come on, let's see some magic, she thought, her eyes fixed on the pile.
Several seconds passed in tense silence.
“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Theo muttered, his shoulders slumping slightly.
Hermione nudged his shoulder gently. “At least the book from your father's collection might shed more light on this Atlantean connection," she said, trying to keep her tone upbeat. “I think it's time to call it a day, though. Do you mind if I take this with me?” she gestured to the book he'd found earlier.
“No problem, I don't need it,” Theo answered.
Hermione nodded, her mind already shifting to the potential of further research. I've got so much to piece together, she thought, glancing back at her notes.
Looking at his watch, Theo spoke again, “Well, Luna should be here soon. She was at her father's house, working on the new edition of the Quibbler. Would you like to join us for supper?”
“Oh, no,” Hermione replied, shaking her head. “I've taken up enough of your time. You and Luna should enjoy yourselves. I've got a bottle of red with my name on it at home. "Maybe next time,” she added, packing up her research.
With a flick of her wand, she sent the piles of books back to their spots on the library shelves. “Thanks again, Theo. If I find anything else out, I'll owl you, okay?”
“Sounds good,” Theo replied, offering her a small smile. “Here, I'll walk you out.”
Hermione returned the smile, a sense of gratitude swelling within her. At least some progress has been made, she thought, her hand gripping her beaded bag tightly.
Arriving at the door, she exited the manor, pausing to wave at Theo before continuing down the path to the gate. At least we're moving forward, she thought. Crossing the threshold beyond the wards, Hermione turned on her heel and disapparated with a quiet pop.