Chapter 38
“Hell is Truth Seen Too Late.”
Thomas Hobbes
Thick foliage and humid days awaited them. After what felt like the settling of their vows no longer translating into visceral need, they'd ventured out. They'd begun with tea on the balcony. Tea on the balcony had been a welcome change from simply falling into the need that their vows had triggered. It had to be primarily their vows. Even if she enjoyed the pleasure of his company, she wouldn't have been that unhinged. Now she had to try and put her head back on straight, and the tea helped. After a few walks, they'd finally risked outside of their comfort, taking in thick green foliage that had no place on their own island. Large, interesting-shaped leaves and brightly coloured leaves, along with what he had imagined were flowers, yet they had nothing dainty or fragile like those from the Malfoy garden, and they seemed to perk at every turn. Upon inspecting orange and violet eruption from a thick green stem, he felt it wore its name properly. Bird of Paradise. It certainly looked like a bird. Whether or not he had found paradise was up for debate. The heat and violence of the sun against his pallor certainly claimed otherwise.
His black wardrobe did nothing to help matters. The thick fabric that had protected him in England did no such thing here. Cooling charms certainly helped, but barely. Running a hand through his hair, he guided her down a path they had taken the day before to find a small waterfall and cenote they had enjoyed among iguanas and other curious creatures attracted to the calm waters and their connecting caves beneath the surface.
The lighter outfits she'd packed helped with this heat. Trousers and a blouse, all with cooling charms, made it easier for her than it was for him. Not everything in her wardrobe was black. And she had to try not to snicker at how miserable he likely was. Poor man. She could feel bad for him as they traipsed through the jungle and towards the ruins, but she did enjoy the flowers, taking her time to actually look at them and enjoy them.
As they made their way, carvings and statues reclaimed by nature stood out. Peeking out at angles rather than how they were likely erected. A creature with what appeared like a beak and another with fangs that reminded him of Nagini. Part of him felt he should thank Longbottom for that loss, but he dared not even think such a thing. For a Slytherin, he wasn’t half as fond of snakes as his entourage appeared to be. Perhaps part of it came from the cane strikes he’d received in his early years, long before Hogwarts and houses. It felt like even more lifetimes ago. Instead, he kept his usual cool exterior, bracing himself for what would come.
The statues she saw got her attention, and her eyes became brighter again, more interested as they moved through the jungle. The creatures of this temple seemed interesting, and she had to hope that she wouldn't have to fight anything in this ruin. As they approached, she gave a slight nod of her head as she looked up at the steps to the large pyramid.
“I’d offer to make it up to you, but mission or not, I feel like this might just be up your alley,” he drawled, pulling her closer to look at the steps that formed the large pyramid. Vines gripping its way up as if the very fingers of the forest demanding its stolen elements back to it.
"Very much up my alley...Our honeymoon being a job can almost be forgiven," she teased slightly. He would still have to put some effort into 'making it up to her' because she hadn't known their honeymoon would be a job. Still, she did enjoy the idea of exploring it. Of taking down defences and seeing things that other witches and wizards hadn't. "Looking for something specific?"
“Almost be forgiven?” he asked. “I gave you the options, and it happened to intersect with …work.” It was easier to call it as such. It wasn’t like he got paid; even in spoils, he seldom kept any. He doubted his family would ever run out of hoarded wealth to need to add more.
“That text you and Lauren referenced,” he pulled out the paper of the sketch of a map and handed it to her. “This should be it. Figured you’d want to see it. Didn’t think your scholar friend should.”
Looking over at him, she lifted a brow. "You gave me options but failed to mention that there would be work when you brought up the ruins, darling." It was mostly teasing. Giving him a hard time how she could since there were very few ways she could, thanks to the vows.
“Hopefully, I can make it up to you dearest,” he responded in a similar tone. He supposed he had been vague, but then he knew she would have gone straight for it rather than enjoy anything else.
Taking the paper sketch, she glanced over it and then at the pyramid. Her eyes widened just a little bit. "You found it...the riddles around it were so cryptic and maddening..." It made her wish she had Luna's help. Apparently, getting Draco's help was what they'd truly needed.
“I had help and extremely diligent researchers, but yes, I found it,” he accepted the praise. It had been quite complex to piece together, but in the end, there was a temple as promised.
"I'm sure you'll manage it somehow," she teased a little as she continued down through the jungle so they could approach this ruined pyramid and arches. Extremely diligent researchers. She supposed they were that. And she was enjoying getting to be a part of this directly.
There was a lot that could potentially be found in this ruin. She wasn't sure if it would be something that they'd manage at first glance. And it would take weeks to translate anything written that they found. "We'll have ample time to translate anything we find, won't we?"
"I can extend our stay for a week with the right findings. Otherwise, you may have to continue without me. I'd, of course, send Zabini or Nott." He doubted his master would want him too far from the front line with whatever ritual he had in mind. In his opinion, the day-to-day was merely more of the same—except now they had a leak.
"Hopefully, we find what you ladies were hinting towards..." It was all he could really do, and his master wasn't the most patient when it came to wanting results. If anyone could get through and figure things out, he had to believe they were the best team for it.
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to stay. I'd rather be at the manor when Luna arrives.....but I might be able to do a few spells to copy the writing down or can potentially take what we need," she mused, carefully tying her hair back from her face as they continued onward, her mind buzzing. She wasn't sure what she would pull from this ruin if anything, but she hoped it was something. If it wasn't, she almost feared what the Dark Lord would do to him again, especially due to the leak.
If she didn’t want to stay, he could always hire some curse breakers, but then he’d have to have ruthless people alongside them to ensure they didn’t stray. It was something to figure out at a later date. “Then let’s hopefully find what we were sent for,” he responded honestly. Regardless, he planned to enjoy mindless self-indulgence when it presented itself. This was a puzzle to complete, a mystery to unravel. He had his wand out before they reached the steps, ready for action.
Pulling her wand from her pocket before she hit the steps, she took in a slow breath and cast a few disillusionment charms and a few spells to see if any other curses or hexes were on the stairs or if there were any Muggle traps that needed to be disarmed. Nothing. It seemed that the outside, at least, was perfectly safe. She took the first step and moved cautiously up.
Though he trusted her, he still ran a few diagnostic spells of his own, feeling for wards and ancient runes that might have been weaved in. If there had been any, they were no longer active. Despite the clear, he was cautious moving forward. Keeping his wand at the ready and his wife close by as he preceded up the expanse of stairs leading up to the entrance at the top of the pyramid.
“At least we won’t have to fight the MACUSA later,” he spoke with a smirk a third of the way up. Down in the southern parts of America, he could easily buy their way out.
Her steps were light despite her findings, not trusting that there wasn't something that they could have missed. As rare as that might be. Where she might have doubted it if she were doing this with a few people from her side of things before, she didn't doubt Draco's skill. If nothing else, she could trust his spellwork enough to know that they would be covered there. She almost chuckled at that and couldn't help but smile a little more. "I'll count that as a blessing."
Dealing with the Americans was not something she wanted to do, especially not since they seemed to have a tempestuous relationship at best with the new regime in the UK. Not that she blamed them. "Not that I doubt our ability to handle it."
“If you want to visit, all you need do is ask. I’d love to give their oculus something to look at,” he taunted, mindful of his steps, avoiding parts of the stone that seemed rigged. Every so often, he ran his diagnostic spells again, especially as they drew closer to the entrance. If the outside was this tame, he feared the inside.
There seemed to be no disturbances outside, or the spells and enchantments had faded with time and lack of reapplication. How long had this place remained empty, and what sort of spells had likely been used to protect it? She wasn't sure, but it made her all the more curious. "You just want an excuse to see me curse someone again?"
“Can you blame me?” She was anger personified when angry. A vision of viciousness. Even at Hogwarts, she’d had quite the streak. Since then? She’d built up a reputation he’d experienced firsthand.
Still, he kept focused on the pyramid. It felt old—older than anything he’d felt in his ancestral home. Once at the top, he paused, looking over the carvings around the entrance as though they might offer clues to any traps that lurked in the darkness.
Could she? No. What she was even interested in had shifted and changed. "I suppose I can't. Surprised me, angry gets you going," she half teased as she examined the carvings in the wall near the door. It held a warning but nothing concrete.
But with the symbols and statues of something with fangs, she tried not to grimace. "Something is in there. Not sure what....but something. It doesn't translate well," she explained, keeping him appraised so they could do this together.
“I’m used to centuries of overlapping wards, but this…” he admitted. “It makes what my family creates look like child’s play.” And it wasn’t something he said lightly. They needed to be focused. His enjoyment of her wrath could wait until they called it a night.
“Ancient magic and likely some old beast to guard it should be well what your first six years of Hogwarts come together…”
He might not have faced what she had, but he’d listened when the stories came out. Had looked over options with his tutors over the summer. He’d tried his hand at a few items in his home and a nasty basement doorway. The added hurdles his father had put him through had been another set of torture altogether.
With his wand at the ready, he stepped forward, keeping her close in case she paused or found something of interest. It would likely be a passage or two before they would have to worry. From the altar and small antechambers, this seemed to be where offerings had once been left.
Ancient magic and some old beast to guard it was exactly what she had dealt with for her six years of schooling at Hogwarts. To the point that a damned basilisk had even petrified her. Being directed by a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul. Add that as a whole other reason she didn't trust the man not to kill her anyway at an opportune moment just because he could. He'd probably even make it look like her side had done it.
The thought alone made her shudder. She nodded her head and shifted her wand in her hand as they slowly made their way inside. She cast more spells to try and find curses, jinxes, hexes, and traps at the temple entrance. She could feel the residual magic that seemed to seep into the stones. Did Stone Henge feel similar? Was that why these two places were linked? She'd never gotten close enough to tell.
"Six years of school, eight years on the run. But who's counting?" She murmured, attempting for a note of humour even as she stayed focused, her gaze scanning over everything to look for clues. Someone had tripped traps here before. There were bones, abandoned packs, and holes in the walls from where items had been taken. The stone had different colours in places where items had once protected it.
"Nine," he corrected. She'd never done her final year, and eight years had passed since the battle of Hogwarts. He had been counting. Not so much for her sake as his. Even in the face of impending doom, he couldn't quite prevent the need to be right.
The ninth year had snuck up on her, hadn't it? She'd hit the anniversary right when she was given her timeline to kill Draco, and they saw how well that was going. "Time flies," she muttered bitterly.
And then he felt it. The sensation where like called to like. His arm shot in front of her. "You feel that?" he asked, eying a dark entrance. With the prickles behind his neck, he knew that was exactly where they needed to go on that feeling alone.
She froze.
"I feel something," she answered without really knowing how to define it. She glanced in the same direction he did. One of them would need to cast lumos since they didn't come with muggle flashlights or torches of any sort. Which meant only one of them would be able to check for traps. From what she could tell, empty spaces for torches lined the hall, but nothing was in them that could be ignited.
Draco reached into his breast pocket, pulling a shrunken hand of glory. It had served him well. “I think we can both agree we’re here to steal." If she stayed close enough, they’d have light and not attract unwanted attention. “We’ll probably trigger the first fail safes once we start crossing,” he added more seriously.
Stepping closer to Draco, she rested a hand on his arm that held the hand of glory, and kept her wand steady as she gave a nod of her head. "Probably. It's a good thing we're both incredibly skilled with spellwork. Lucky that your wife is so brilliant," she drawled with a bit more confidence even as her heart thundered in her chest. This was just like going into dangerous situations with Harry and Ron. That's what she had to tell herself.
He would never deny his partner was gifted, but it was new for both of them, wasn't it? "Must be nice to have someone as competent as your husband at your side for once," he drawled. After Crabbe and Goyle, Nott and Zabini had been an upgrade, but still not at his level, not the way Hermione was.
Once they made it past the first torches, every pair began to light ahead. A sizzle of magic in the air. "So much for discreet..." He pocketed the hand carefully while his grip tightened on his wand.
She cut him a look from the corner of her eyes. Harry had been gifted in defensive magic, and Ron had tactics on occasion. But neither of them could figure out riddles or complex pieces of magic the way that she could, and she knew her new husband could. As competent as her husband though? She was rather certain no one she had run with was.
Trying not to snort, she let go of his arm and continued to cast to test the path ahead. "...This reminds me far too much of the kind of traps during first year...and that damned chamber..."
Severus had told him about the various hurdles the chosen ones had gone through when he'd asked one night. "Somehow, I feel that might be...simple in comparison," he gritted. Runes were simple compared to what this was, and the darkness of it, it sang to him, made his skin hum with curiosity. "There's so much power here," he could taste it metallic and bloody on his tongue the more he advanced. Every so often, he tried to run diagnostics but didn't quite recognize what he was finding. A few of the markings on the nearby wall gave a glow as if warning them they didn't care to be known.
"Well, it didn't require translation, so you aren't wrong." Again. Hopefully, that wouldn't make him insufferable as she continued along with him.
"Any chance you can translate that?" he asked.
The faint glow of the runes got her attention and she leaned in, taking a moment to read over them before she grimaced just a little bit. It took about ten minutes to get a proper translation, and it almost made her groan to have to read it. "...Sacrifices to be made to get to the center of the pyramid where everything is. If we don't do them, some beasty or hex is unleashed and the pyramid will lock down until either both of us or whatever was unleashed is dead," she answered.
Glancing over at him, she sighed. "The first sacrifice is blood. And it's unclear if one person's will do or if it would want us both to bleed."
He didn't particularly enjoy being right. It only meant that they would have more work ahead of them. Instead, he focused on what he could deal with. Sacrifices. It was always a sacrifice, or in this case, multiple. He reached for the dagger sheathed at his side. "Anywhere in particular it wants it?" he asked, readying himself to spill blood. He knew it was more than symbolic. A way to weaken the intruder, and he didn't like it.
Letting out a slow breath, she shook her head. "No. Just says blood of the one traversing the pyramid. Might as well bleed me as well. Would rather not trip the security measures." She moved away from that runic text to stand next to him again, offering him her nondominant hand and arm.
With her armed, he sheathed his wand to bring the blade in his dominant hand and settle it between both their palms. In a single motion, he sliced them both, the blade appearing slick with their blood. He wiped it on his thigh and fisted his hand to let drops fall in front of him. His next motions were quick, trading blade for wand.
"Hopefully, this works," he stepped forward through the first arch and down into the pyramid.
A soft hiss more from surprise than actual pain left her as he quickly sliced open both of their palms. She grimaced before closing her fist tightly in front of her and let several drops of blood drip onto the stones below. Following after him, she resisted the urge to rub her hand against her pants. There might be a further call for blood.
While there was a soft hum of magic as they descended towards the next set of runes, nothing activated. There were no rumbles or growls or any indication that they had done anything wrong.
Everything inside the pyramid seemed to have a purpose. Every carving and artefact tucked into alcoves. Even though some parts seemed useless, he was certain it was mostly to keep muggles away, or those that weren't quite as keen. The Americas, in general, appeared to have a different approach to their treatment of muggles and muggleborns. In temples like these, muggles made great sacrifices. Their magical community had found uses for blood the likes Europe hadn't engaged in in millennia. Even here, it had fallen out of fashion to an extent.
Hermione had once been enamoured with the idea of going into pyramids and ancient ruins to be a cursebreaker. It had probably come about because she spoke with Bill about it when she was visiting the Weasleys. It seemed her life would give her a taste of every little profession she had barely entertained the idea of.
A few more narrow passages, and he felt a breeze as they entered a large chamber. Again, he cast his litany of charms and diagnostic spells, feeling her own being cast alongside him. Before he could get a proper glimpse at the lit-up images, the floor opened...no tilted, and he was sent sliding down further into the pyramid.
She let out a gasp sliding after him.
It took everything to keep his grip on his wand until he felt solid ground again. The only upside was that they didn't lose their footing completely, but it did, have her bumping into him, grasping onto his arm to steady herself with a curse. At least it wasn't flying. At least she hadn't been on a damn broom. Casting again, she saw runes and slowly let go of Draco, her heart hammering in her chest, to read over the next sacrifice to be made.
After several long moments, she tapped her fingers against her thigh. "A comfort...it wants us to sacrifice a comfort?"
What was comforting in a pyramid such as this one? He could think of a few things. He eyed the small altar in the middle of the room. Whatever they had that was comforting would likely need to go there.
"A comfort..." he tried to think of something. He took the dagger at his side and placed it on the altar. It was his backup to his wand. It was safety. His jaw tensed, hoping it would suffice.
She didn't like that. At all. But she did have the galleon that had been used to communicate still in her pocket. She doubted Harry would use it, and even if he did, she wouldn't be able to use it again. There was a small mercy in the fact Draco would think that it was the one she had communicated to him with.
Digging the galleon out of her pocket, she walked over to the small altar and put the galleon inside of it. Once both of them had placed something, torch lights illuminated the path behind it to lead them further on.
Weakened and partially disarmed. He certainly didn't trust the path forward. He tried not to think of the Galleon she put down. It was something to overthink later. They had other means of communicating, so he didn't understand why it was a comfort, but the pyramid had, and that was all that mattered.
As he advanced, he kept his hand on his wand. Whatever they were after, it was close. He could feel it, taste it. It called him forward, and he had to fight to keep his wits about. To watch his footing and brace himself for the next sacrifice. It was another three lengths of corridors before they found the next chamber.
The torches kept illuminating a few steps ahead down the path, only allowing them to see parts of their destination a few moments before they walked into them. The next chamber had torches all the way around it, but the path before it was concealed in that magical shadow. Not the last chamber, but they were getting closer. Casting again, the runes for this translation were closer to the altar, and she cautiously approached to translate them.
Her fingers brushed over the stone, and she grimaced. This one was also irritating. Why couldn't temples want them to sacrifice hair, a piece of cloth, or anything more convenient to give up? She supposed then it wouldn't be a worthy sacrifice, but still. "A secret. Spoken clearly to the room."
A secret. Their entire lives were made up of secrets. At least her translations had been spot on so far, so he couldn't complain about her ability there. His tongue slicked over his lips and he considered what secret he could divulge. Which could he sacrifice? Depending which he used, would she forgive him?
"A secret..." he swallowed down as he considered his options. "How secret are we talking?"
Letting out a slow breath, she let down her hair to card a hand through it as she thought about that herself. At least her hair wasn't frizzing even with the heat and humidity of the damn jungle they were in. The pyramid also offered a temporary reprieve from the worst of it. "...A secret that we haven't shared with each other. The literal translation is something along the lines of 'A secret not voiced to those within the sanctum'. And considering we're the only ones here..."
She shrugged and crossed her arms loosely over her chest. A secret that she hadn't shared with him. There were countless numbers of them, but she wasn't sure what sort of secret she could even begin to tell him.
“Alright,” he nodded, swallowing down. One secret she didn’t know. He could do this. After running a hand through his short hair, and slicking his lower lip, he looked her over.
“I never actually wanted to play quidditch. I just wanted to beat Potter.” He admitted. It was innocent enough, and he’d never even told his parents. If anything, they had pushed him, and had offered the team incentive.
Looking over at him, she lifted a brow at that. Well, that wasn't too surprising, but she didn't know it. "...You were good at it," she offered as a consolation before she glanced at the altar and then over at the path behind it.
"...I am utterly terrified of flying on a broom. I hate it." She didn't tell anyone. The only ones who knew were Ron and Harry. She had also been afraid of flying on that damned Hippogriff. But after saying those two secrets, no lights illuminated the path.
"Bloody hell," she groaned and ran her fingers through her hair again as she closed her eyes. "...more serious secrets then..."
There was one that was much more serious. One that could get people she loved killed, and it made her heart ache. "...I'm invoking the silence vow. You can't tell another soul about this. It belongs to you and the temple," she said seriously, not looking at him as she spoke.
At her invocation, he could feel the tingle of magic. With a nod, he agreed.
"...Before I left with Harry and Ron at the beginning of all this...I obliviated both of my parents. I erased every trace of my existence from their lives and gave them a new ambition that got them out of the UK...To keep them safe..."
His eyes widened at the admission. He had been glad to find her home empty when he’d been sent to fetch her parents, but that was impressive.
“The reason you never hear back from the muggleborns and halfbreeds you think you smuggled out of the UK is because I knew. It was so overwhelming. It’s how the hunts began... to thin the amount after preliminary interrogations,” he admitted dryly, bracing himself for her wrath. At least it worked; the fires led the way forward.
Glancing over at him at the silence, she had expected some sort of condemnation or something. At least they'd still be safe, and she didn't have to share where she had sent them. But as soon as he spoke, her heart sank, and she felt like she would be sick. Hermione had never expected to hear back from them. It had been the whole point. But to know that he had...The shock couldn't be hidden. Neither could the rage and hatred that burned in her eyes the next moment.
She should have known better. Should have realised that it couldn't have been that simple. He had acted so offended when he thought she saw him as a monster, yet he had done this. How could he be anything but a monster? "...You hunted them...and now it's a game...to mimic your triumph in hunting them down...." Her voice was cold as she locked down her expression after another glare.
Fighting him right now was impossible. She couldn't hurt him. Couldn't kill him. And she was bound to him. 'Til death did they part. Turning on her heel, she started down the new corridor, her shoulders tense as her free hand clenched and unclenched into a fist over and over again.
Draco looked her over, detachment shielding him from the fire in her gaze. It wasn’t a game to him, but then, none of this was. “I’ve never pretended to be anything less than a monster,” he reminded. “Let’s get this over with,” he darted through the doors. They could lose focus later. Until then, he had to keep himself set on the task.
At least now he had visions of her hatred. It would go down much better with the Dark Lord than their stay so far. It was sobering and cool, and he needed both of those to make it out alive.
When the next room appeared, he entered and began the same process he had. He ignored the item on the altar, the one they had come for, to ensure they had all the facts before touching it. Before he could get through it, the exits were all sealed, and he swallowed down hard. He feared the last sacrifice. If one had to sacrifice the other, they were screwed.
Cloaking herself in the cold detachment she had used countless times when hunting down death eaters, she kept her breathing even as she slowly made her hand relax, keeping her wand at the ready. He hadn't pretended to be anything other than what he was, and she still had to deal with it. It made guilt gnaw at her. She should have tried to kill him in his own warded house and let them both be killed.
She could remember their names and their faces, and now she had to live with the fact that she hadn't saved them. All she had done was buy them a little more time. Ignoring him as the runes appeared, she strode back over to them and read over them. Her voice was empty of any emotion or feeling as she translated. "A sacrifice of sin...A confession of sorts that has nothing to do with the secret we revealed. A sin we are either planning to commit or already have..."
Like her betrayal of her friends and her morals? Or could her pride in thinking she could handle him alone be a sin?
“Ladies first,” he offered her the floor, trying to calm the slight shake in his hand as he sheathed his wand. At least they had the vow of silence. He could invoke it the same way she had in the other room.
He’d spent years on his plan, and it was so close to fruition. His nostrils flared slightly as he held back his anger. Of all the things to make him slip. To potentially destroy everything. Perhaps enlisting her help had been a mistake.
She shot a glare at him immediately before she started to tie back her hair again, hoping they'd get to leave soon but preparing for a fight if they couldn't come up with anything. "Betrayal. Flipping sides against my best friend. Against those that I've cared for....Or perhaps the pride I had in thinking that I could kill you within a set time frame. Or better yet," she trailed off and looked back at him.
"Wrath. Because I'd give anything to be able to punch you in the face right now...." some of that anger leaked through into her voice.
“Lust, I still find it hot when you get mad,” he slicked his lips, but he knew he couldn’t get away with that. It wasn’t what the room wanted. “I am invoking the vow of silence,” he stated cooly. No, he wouldn’t lose his composure the way she seemed to be spiralling out.
"Of course you do...Bloody hell," she groaned, her voice almost a growl. And this was the man she was tied to till she died, or he did? But if she were honest, they'd likely kill her if he died. The invoking of the vow of silence had her arching a brow as she looked at him, knowing whatever was said would only ever be something that she could talk about with him. As he spoke, though, she blinked several times, shock taking over everything else.
Turning towards the statue, he took a few steps. “Betrayal,” he said. “I have every intention of killing my master, and where he thinks I’m dutifully doing as I’m told, I’m amassing everything I need to complete the job the chosen one couldn’t. I would rather survive, so both sides need to fall for that to happen.” He set his hands on the artefact and plucked it from its pedestal. A door opened straight out to the jungle they’d come through. He didn’t wait to leave. She could follow or not. She could hate him or not. It hardly changed anything.
As he picked up the artefact to leave, she strode after him, her own shock and anger and hurt enough to have her keep up with him. I'm sorry.....What?!